


Coco/Noragami AU

by Keet126



Category: Coco (2017), ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aztec Gods, Huehuecoyotl - Freeform, I'm just taking the rules of the noragami-verse and combining it with Coco, Noragami AU, Not really a lot of romance but there's a little, Not romance centered, Quetzalcoatl - Freeform, Sorry no Noragami Characters are in this, There will be deaths, Will have a few other gods but NO SPOILERS, Xōchipilli, will add more tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keet126/pseuds/Keet126
Summary: The god, Xōchipilli had been on his way home when he saw the spirit. It was the spirit of a young man who had died. Xōchipilli was weary. He wasn’t sure whether taking on another spirit was the wisest decision. But still, this was the spirit of a person who had died. The spirit of a person that still had much left to live for. Xōchipilli could tell, this was a kind hearted person. That was when he made up his mind. Xōchipilli raised his hand and gave the spirit a new name, and by doing so, granted him a second chance at life. Now with a new name and no memories of his past, Héctor is about to enter an entirely new world he never even knew existed.





	1. A New Name

**Author's Note:**

> Given the nature of Noragami's universe, I thought this AU would've popped up sooner, but it didn't so -puts on cape- IT'S DOWN TO ME
> 
> This is NOT a crossover, Yato and CO are not appearing. There will be ONE chapter waaaaaaaaaaaay down the line that references the shinto gods (specifically a Kazuma reference and another SPOILER reference) but that's about it. 
> 
> All I'm doing is grabbing the rules of the Noragami-verse of gods, regalias, etc and applying them here with different gods, and if any of you are familiar with the premise behind Noragami, aka, dead people who wanted to keep on living getting a chance to do that by a god, you can see why a certain Coco Character caught my attention as the perfect candidate for this AU
> 
> I am aware that most of the Coco-Locos probably haven't seen Noragami, or if they have, maybe not have gotten into the Manga, as such, do not fret! You might be a little confused at what's going on, but Héctor will be your audience surrogate! He also has no idea at what's going on, so through him, I'll need to explain things. I'm sorry if there's ANY confusion at all, if you are confused, please feel free to ask me via comments what's going on (although please be aware that some of the answers might be NO SPOILER for my own story). 
> 
> If you're a Noragami fan AND a Coco fan, CONGRATS! You'll probably know what's going on and will most likely be able to predict some of the things I have planned to some degree.
> 
> If you're JUST a noragami fan, but want something else in the same universe with different characters but aren't too familiar with Coco, 1st, there are heavy Coco spoilers in this SO GO WATCH IT, 2nd there's not as much world lore in Coco that I need to cover for non Coco-Locos than there is for Noragami-verse, but I'll try my best! 
> 
> Lastly, while I have written consistently scheduled fanfic in the past, this will not be one of them, this is strictly for fun on my part

He didn’t know how much time had passed. He didn’t know where he was or even who he was. 

Sometimes it felt like he had been there for mere seconds, other times, it felt like all of eternity had passed him. 

He couldn’t tell if he was floating and drifting in the air, or if he was laying somewhere. 

If he focused, he could sometimes hear muffled voices, speaking through a fuzzy veil. But he could never tell what they were saying. Sometimes he doubted they were even saying anything coherent. 

He only knew two things. He knew that he was somewhere, either floating in the air or laying on the ground, and he knew he was dead. 

He didn’t know how he died, or who he was before it, much less what he did or what kind of a person he was. All he knew for certain was that he was dead. 

He wasn’t sure how he knew, but it was just something felt instinctively right to him. He could sense light and dark, but was all but blind to it. He could sense when it was warm and when it was cold, but he didn’t know where the temperatures came from, and didn’t much care. They didn’t bother him. 

He often wondered why he never felt hungry or thirsty, despite not remembering what such things were, only that the lack of them were a sure sign he wasn’t living. 

Sometimes, he felt lonely, and he tried reaching out to the muffled voices, despite not having a voice, or even a presence. However, they seemed to exist only through another veil. He and they were forever separate. 

Sometimes, when it was dark, he could sense others lurking around within his veil. Sometimes they showed malicious interest in him, and it was all he could do to stay away from them. Most of the time, they ignored him, only pausing to realize he was there, before continuing on their merry way. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he came to know a third thing. He knew he wanted to go home. 

Wherever he was, and whatever it was he was doing, he knew he wasn’t home. He could feel that he wanted other things, what they were however, he couldn’t remember. 

He often wondered where he was, and how he got there. He wondered why nobody would ever bother to pay him attention, whether they were in the veil or out. He wondered if anybody knew him, or at least recognized him. 

Far too often, he tried asking himself what else it was he wanted. The answer was always,  _ I don’t kno _ w. 

Suddenly, a bright light shone and shattered the dark, and for the first time since he could remember, he could see a silhouette of a man. 

“ _ Spirit, you are lost and adrift.”  _

A voice cut through the veil, sounding clearer than any sound he could remember having heard. 

_ “You have nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. _

_ Thus I grant you a place to belong.”  _

The voice proclaimed. The lights were shining and all converged on one spot and began to write a word.

_ “My name is Xōchipilli. _

_ Bearing two names, you shall remain here.  _

_ With these names I make you my servant.  _

_ With these names, I use my life to make you a regalia fit to be wielded by a god!”  _

As the man spoke, the light continued spelling the word, until it formed what he immediately understood was his name, his identity. 

_ “You are Rafael! _

_ As regalia, Mixolydian!  _

**_Come!_ ** _ Mixolydian!”   _

Rafael involuntarily disappeared in a flash of light, and flew into this man’s arms. Only now did he notice two more figures, that of a woman, and that of a girl.  

* 

“There!” Atzi pointed. She, Xōchipilli and Isabela had been walking to find a way to go back home when they saw it. Right in the middle of the street, a tiny glowing light of an uncorrupted spirit. 

Xōchipilli tilted his head and studied it. 

Isabela made a face at Atzi, “Are you sure? Looks like a tiny alebrijé to me.” 

Atzi rolled her eyes, “It’s a spirit. I know it. Pilli, what do you say?” she turned to their god.

“It’s the spirit of a young man, barely scraped into adulthood,” Xōchipilli answered her. 

“Atzi’s getting a boyfriend!” Isabela teased. 

Atzi ignored the younger regalia, “Well then, what are you waiting for?” she prompted, “It sounds like the ideal spirit.” 

Xōchipilli hesitated. While his outwardly appearance had improved since adding Isabela to his arsenal, he still appeared a tired old man instead of the young adult he usually looked like. The shock, and wear of the battle a few weeks prior, was still weighing on him. 

“Señor,” Atzi took a sterner tone with him, “If we-... if  **you** are to survive, you’re going to need more regalia,” she reminded him. 

Xōchipilli nodded. She was right of course. Xōchipilli raised his hand, his index and middle fingers glowed when he pointed them at the spirit. As he performed the ceremony, as he said the incantation to claim this spirit, the weight of responsibility grew greater in his stomach. 

To take a spirit under his wing was never a responsibility to take lightly. Xōchipilli knew this. With every new spirit he took, he took a new lifetime upon his hands. The deaths of all but one of his previous regalia still held a heavy burden in his heart, and as he bestowed this spirit a name to tether him to the living world, he couldn’t help but fear he’d fail this one too. 

The ceremony was over, Xōchipilli summoned his new regalia, “Come!  **Mixolydian** !” he held out his hand. In a flash of light the spirit rushed over, and in Xōchipilli’s hand appeared a guitar being held by its neck. 

Xōchipilli staggered sideways, quickly grabbing onto Atzi for support, as his eyes briefly flashed with a light. The spirit had accepted his new name and new purpose. Now it was Xōchipilli’s turn to accept the spirit’s heart, and all that came with it.  

“Pilli!” Isabela called out in concern.

Blinking away the final effects of the ritual, Xōchipilli regained his composure and straightened, “I’m fine Bella,” he assured her with a tired smile. 

After he let go of Atzi, she bent down and looked at the transformed spirit, “A guitar huh,” she noticed. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You’re always did have at least one instrument in your entourage.” 

Xōchipilli pulled up the spirit so he could hold him with both hands, and get a better look at him. He was just an average brown guitar. Nothing too noteworthy.

Isabela stretched up onto her toes to see, “Hi Rafael!” she greeted the new spirit. 

Atzi looked at Xōchipilli, “What can he do?” she asked. 

“Let’s give him a quick test then, shall we?” Xōchipilli suggested, adjusting his grip to properly hold the guitar. He fingered out a chord, and then he strummed it. The strings glowed upon contact and released a small wave of light. It went into Xōchipilli and the others. 

As soon as the light entered and went through him, Xōchipilli suddenly felt much better, stronger, with more energy to keep up with the burden of regalias. 

Isabela spun around, clearly feeling the energy boost herself, and even Atzi, let loose a smile. “If I had to guess, he’ll be capable of healing once he’s at full strength.” 

Xōchipilli cradled the guitar gently. The rush of emotions that had gripped him once he claimed Rafael as his, were wearing off, and now he could see he had made a good decision. They had found a good spirit. 

“Let’s go home,” he told the girls, and began leading the way back so that they could teleport to the heavenly realm, where he resided. 

As they walked, Isabela kept peering at the guitar curiously, “Why don’t you revert him? How is he doing? Is he saying anything to you spiritually?” she asked the questions in rapid succession. 

“He’s confused,” Xōchipilli revealed, “I don’t think he’s ever been a regalia before.” 

“Is he scared?” Atzi asked. 

Xōchipilli shook his head. “He feels safe and comforted by our presence. That’s all I can say however.” 

Atzi nodded, “We can revert him once we’re home. If he’s never been a regalia before, he must be exhausted from drifting in between the shores.” 

*

Finally, they were home. Once a revered god, Xōchipilli’s temple was big comparatively speaking, with many rooms and luxuries. As of right now, they stood in the living room, which had a large pool, and a small waterfall pouring more water into it from the ceiling. However, it was nothing in comparison to the really famous gods’ temples which would sometimes occupy several hundreds of acres at a time. 

“Come on come on!” Isabela insisted impatiently. 

Xōchipilli smiled at her, then he gazed at the guitar, “Revert, Rafael,” he ordered. 

The guitar turned into light, and then the light flashed in front of everyone and formed a lanky, tall young man. As usual per a first time spirit, he was wearing modest and loose clothing, all in white. As of late, with all the cultures mixing, one could never be sure what sort of clothes a new regalia would wear when they first appeared. Rafael had on a loose blouse and pants. 

Rafael looked around him, taking in his surroundings. His first attention went to the elaborate seating that was placed cozily against the sides, and plants that decorated corners and even the walls. 

“Welcome home,” a voice stole his attention, and Rafael refocused his gaze on the three people in front of him. 

The first person to hold his attention was the tallest. A man who seemed to be in his sixties, who had grey hair with white streaks in them. Even though he wore modern clothes, his eyes had an ancient glint to them. 

The woman next to him was bearing a huipil. Her long hair tied in a loose ponytail. 

There was also a girl standing next to them, thirteen, maybe fourteen years of age. Now she was wearing a dress Rafael felt any girl her age should be wearing. She also had far lighter skin than the other two, although her hair was just as dark. 

“Where are we?” Rafael finally asked. 

The man gestured to the room around them, “In my temple, in the heavenly realm,” he answered. 

“Temple?” 

The man approached Rafael, and warmly grasped his shoulder, “Yes, I’m the god Xōchipilli, you may call me Pilli if you’d like. These two are Atzi,” he gestured behind him to the woman, “and Isabela,” the girl smiled and gave Rafael a wave. 

Rafael blinked, still trying to take it all in. 

“Don’t worry!” Isabela piped, “It’s safe here! We’re all friendly.” 

Rafael took a few steps half-heartedly looking around, still feeling dazed, “But aren’t I dead? I-I’ve been dead,” he stared at his hand.  _ For a long time hadn’t it? _

“It’s late,” Atzi stated, “We should all get some rest, you especially. It’s a lot to take in, and a lot we need to cover. We’ll explain in the morning.” 

Xōchipilli nodded in agreement, “Good idea,” he praised her, “Atzi, is there a room for Rafa to stay in?” 

Atzi nodded, “This way,” she gently led Rafael by the hand. 

Rafael could barely even register where she was taking him. This temple was huge with many halls and stairs and turns… 

“Here,” she led him to a room, already decorated and with a mattress, “You can redecorate later,” she promised, “There are some clothes that should suit you in the dresser should you need them.” Atzi then left. 

Rafael didn’t bother to change clothes. Instead, he immediately laid down on the mattress, and fell asleep almost instantly. 


	2. Newbie Regalia fails at pillow fights

Isabela peered from the doorway curiously into Rafael’s room. The new regalia was still sleeping in his bed, his covers gently rising and falling slowly as he breathed. His back was to the door, which meant Isabela couldn’t see his face. She huffed irritably. 

“You know Bella, it’s rude to spy on others,” Atzi whispered over her. 

Isabela jumped and choked down a startled yelp before furiously turning around, “It’s also rude to sneak up on them!” she hissed back. 

Atzi rolled her eyes, and grabbed Isabela’s wrist, dragging her away from the room. “Pilli said that this is his first time being a regalia. It’s going to take him some adjustment.” She took Bella to the living room where Xōchipilli was sitting comfortably on a couch reading a book. 

“You’re looking better,” Atzi told him. 

Xōchipilli smiled from behind his book, “Getting there,” he changed his gaze to Isabela, “Checking on our new friend were we?” he asked her. 

Isabela sat down next to him, grabbing her own book from the coffee table, “He went to bed before us, and he’s clearly going to get up after us. I just wanted to see how awake he was.” 

Atzi rolled her eyes, “I’m going to patrol,” she announced before leaving. 

Xōchipilli said nothing to stop her, but he did wish she’d give it a rest already. It’d been weeks, almost two months, since the attack. Not to mention Xolotl probably thought he was dead anyways. There was no need to patrol. 

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” Bella asked Xōchipilli, putting her book down. “I want to give him a tour with you!” 

“Soon,” Xōchipilli assured her, “and if he doesn’t, we can go wake him up ourselves or something,” he promised. 

Isabela closed her book and leaned on her knees, “I get that he’s new and all, but I don’t think I slept this much my first time.” 

Xōchipilli took his eyes off of his book to glance down the hallway that Rafael was in, “Well, it’s strange, he’s been dead for six years, and yet he’s neither been tainted nor claimed in all that time,” Xōchipilli stroked his chin. “But drifting in between the shores for that long is likely very exhausting.” 

“I bet he wasn’t claimed because all the gods are busy fighting themselves,” Isabela theorized. 

“Or they’re too afraid to leave their temples in the heavenly realm,” Xōchipilli added, and went back to his book. He’d rather not think about the current dilemma the gods were going through. 

*

Rafael blearily blinked away the sleep. The bed was so comfortable that all he wanted to do was stay there. As far as he could remember, this was the most comfortable and happiest he had ever been. 

_ As far as I can remember… _ Rafael thought about that phrase. He  **knew** that he had been around for much longer than he could remember. He was an adult, which meant that at some point he had been a child that grew up. He was dead, which meant he had lived through a life before dying. Furthermore, there had been some amount of time between his death and last night. 

And Rafael couldn’t remember any of it. His only basis of how happy he had been was less than twenty-four hours.

Rafael turned in his bed onto his stomach and stretched, then relaxed, sinking further into the bed. He let his lungs deflate for a few seconds as he sighed, basking in the softness before opening his eyes again and looking at his outstretched arms. 

_ ‘Rafael’ _ was written on his left forearm, almost like a tattoo. He reached over with his right hand and traced the letters. It still felt like skin, and by all functionalities and appearances, it might as well have been a tattoo. 

But it wasn’t just a tattoo. It was more than that. It was his name, his identity, his essence, a tether. Rafael would have thought that his lack of memories to have been more distressing, but he wasn’t distressed about it. His name seemed to hold back whatever anguish that might have brought. 

Rafael stretched one last time before sitting up and yawning. Despite how organized the room looked and how much it felt almost like a hotel, the amount of personal items decorating the room hinted at another presence. 

Rafael frowned, had he stayed in someone else’s room? He had to find that person and apologize! Where had they spent the night if he was here? 

Shaking his head, Rafael got out of bed and dutifully made it. He peeked through the doorway and looked down the hall either way.  _ Drat. _ He had been hoping that it had just been his disorientation that had made the place seem so big, but alas, it remained bigger than he thought possible. 

The intricate carvings on the wall gave this place a sort of majestic and warm aura. It was a shame he couldn’t read Nahuatl. Rafael wondered what they said. 

Upon hearing voices down the left side of the hall, Rafael wandered in that direction. As he walked down the hallway, he kept passing room after room after room. As homey and as welcome as this place felt, it felt rather empty… Maybe everyone had just gone out? Why were there so many rooms with beds and furniture, but no one in them?

Rafael reach was seemed to be a living room of sorts. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought it was the same one he had been reverted into his human form in yesterday. At night the place had seemed ancient, but now in the daylight it felt a lot more modern. 

There were four couches surrounding a center coffee table, and there were books on the table. On one of the couches there was that older man and the girl. Shoot, Rafael had already forgotten their names. 

Rafael had barely entered the room when the girl’s face lit up and she ran over from the couch to give him a hug, “Hey!” she greeted him, “Sleep well?” by the smirk of her eyebrow, Rafael had a feeling she was asking him this as a rhetorical question to tease him. 

The man rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Don’t antagonize him Bella,” he scolded, standing up too, and approaching Rafael. 

Bella giggled and then went to the man’s side, “Can we give him the tour now Pilli?  **Please** ?”

Pilli rested a hand on her head, “Patience,” then he looked to Rafael, “Are you hungry? We’ve got some fresh fruit you could have for breakfast.”

Rafael smiled relieved, “Sí!” he nodded. 

Pilli gestured, “Right this way.” He led Rafael and Bella down another hall, “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve got a lot to learn,” as they walked, Rafael looked out the various windows, seeing a very un-Mexico-like landscape. Or rather, as far as he could recall from when he had first received his name, he hadn’t been in the jungle part of Mexico, no, far from there actually and… wait, were those trees… floating? Okay,  **definitely** not Mexico.

The man let loose a chuckle at that, “Well then, let’s review, I’m Xōchipilli, this is Bella. Atzi went out on patrol a moment ago. We’re in the heavenly realm. Any other questions?”

Rafael let that small handful of information sink in, grateful that Xōchipilli wasn’t dropping a lot of information all at once. “Whose room did I stay in? I wanted to thank them,” Rafael asked. 

Xōchipilli didn’t seem to hear him, or so Rafael thought, however after a few moments he answered, “Now, it’s officially your room.”

Rafael blinked, “But whose was it before? You’re not kicking them out for my cause are you?” 

They had reached the kitchen. The walls were bright and colorful with various shades of orange and yellow, and the wooden table and chairs in the middle added a homeliness to it. 

Xōchipilli reached into the fruit basket and pulled out a mango, “They’re not here now, it’s yours.” He started peeling it with a knife. 

Isabela immediately understood Xōchipilli’s plan, and squealed in delight before running around the kitchen to grab other ingredients. 

Rafael wasn’t sure he understood, “What do you mean? Were they kicked out or, something? All of they’re things are still there.”

Xōchipilli shook his head. “Atzi and I can help you pack and store anything in there that you don’t want.” Isabela dropped the ingredients next to Xōchipilli who smiled warmly, “You read my mind Bella!” he praised her. 

“But what about that person?” Rafael still didn’t quite understand. “Won’t they mind?”

Xōchipilli uncomfortably cleared his throat, “I’m not quite ready to talk about that yet, would you mind waiting for this conversation?” he asked. 

Rafael shrugged, “Can I help?” he offered. 

Xōchipilli passed over some limes and a knife to him, “you can cut these in half.”

Rafael nodded and began cutting. 

“Can I put on the chilli powder?” Bella asked. 

Xōchipilli smiled, “Of course! And after we’re done eating, you’re going to get started on your regalia skills.”

***

“Alright Rafa,” Xōchipilli faced his new regalia with Atzi and Bella standing at his side dutifully, “Bella is going to teach you how to make a borderline while Atzi and I go looking for more regalia.” 

“I have a question,” Rafael said. 

Xōchipilli nodded patiently, “Yes?” 

“So I’m a regalia right? So are Atzi and Bella?” he asked.

Xōchipilli nodded. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that Xōchipilli is our master,” Atzi answered him, “he has graciously taken your presence, imbued it with his own, giving you a name, and tying you to life for a second chance at living. As such we regalia owe him our servitude. We are his weapons, and his tools.”

Xōchipilli rolled his eyes, “You make it sound like I extort you to slavery.”

Atzi shrugged, “A lot of things often are not as they sound.”

“Well,” Bella shifted her weight uncomfortably, “There  **are** some gods who don’t treat their regalia very well…” then she gave herself a shake and turned to Rafael excitedly, “But you don’t have to worry about that though! Pilli is really nice!”

Rafael smiled at her, “Claro!” he looked back at Xōchipilli, “So then, why do you need more of us?” he tilted his head. 

Xōchipilli pressed his lips together at the uncomfortable question, “These are… trying times. I need more regalia to protect myself and the rest of you, although, I’m not much of a fighter…” he admitted. “To put it simply, I need to be able to defend myself against other gods.” 

Rafael frowned, “There are other gods?” 

“Sure! Lots!” Bella affirmed. 

“Shouldn’t you all be friends?” Rafael was still confused. 

Xōchipilli chuckled at that comment, “Even before the Spanish brought the presence of that strange eastern God with them, not all of us were ever quite friends. Many were quite antagonistic to each other. Now, with all of us struggling to even keep existing, tensions are at an all time high.” 

“If you ask me, it’s the lack of sacrifices that are driving some of them crazy,” Bella mused, “Well,” she smiled at a personal inside joke, “crazier than usual.”

“Should I be concerned?” Rafael eyed them all, even going as far as taking a step back away from them. 

“Aww, you scared?” Bella puffed her cheeks out to tease him. 

“Not to worry Rafa,” Xōchipilli was exasperated at Atzi’s and Bella’s explanations that made things sound much worse than they actually were. “The other gods shouldn’t bother me for a while, but still it’s better to be safe with more regalia, than vulnerable with only three.” 

“Aren’t we enough?” 

“Even for the most skilled warrior, I’d imagine they’d have a rough time trying to fight with a guitar, a pencil and a walking stick,” Xōchipilli answered gently.

Atzi raised an eyebrow, “I’m a  **staff** .” 

Xōchipilli coughed to clear his throat uncomfortably, “Ahem, yes, well… Shall we go?” He turned to leave.

Atzi trailed after him, “I will not come when you call until you apologize.” She threatened. 

As the two left out the door, Rafael could hear them playfully arguing. He looked at Isabela who crossed her arms drill-sergeant-like. She looked just about ready to drill him to exhaustion.

“Ready to start?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I say no?” Rafael smiled nervously. 

Bella rolled her eyes, “Come on!” she dragged him outside by the wrist. “As a regalia, it is your solemn duty to know how to draw a borderline against any enemies your master has,” she explained. 

“He’s a god, can’t he do it?” Rafael asked. 

When they reached the courtyard, Bella let go of his hand, “Everyone is different Rafa. In the same way that regalia can’t do what gods do, gods can’t do what regalia do, and borderlines are a uniquely regalia ability.”

Rafael nodded, taking in the explanation. He wasn’t sure if he could remember everything being thrown at him but…  _ Hmm _ Rafael had the sudden idea to write everything into a catchy song to make things easier to remember, but he pushed the thought aside. “So what is a borderline?” Rafael asked. 

Bella smirked, “This,” she held up her index and middle fingers, “ **Borderline!** ” she exclaimed while swiping her fingers in front of her. A line appeared on the floor, and light rose up from it as if it were glass. 

Rafael gaped, and hesitantly reached forward. He thought his hand would pass through the light, but it was incredibly solid. Curious, Rafael gave it a few knocks, and it gave a metallic, and glassy ring. 

“What do you think?” Bella asked. 

“It’s out of tune,” Rafael turned to her. 

“What?”

Rafael managed to suppress his laugh with a smile, and cleared his throat, “Uh don’t worry about it. So how do I make one?” 

The borderline faded as Bella released it, “Alright, come here,” she beckoned for him to stand next to her. “So first thing you need to know, there are lots of different ways to use borderlines, but we’re just going to focus on the barrier feature first.” Bella explained, “Basically, you’re making a force field, or a wall or a shield. Nobody can pass that line unless you drop it, or you give someone explicit permission.”

“Okay,” Rafael followed. 

“These are good for protecting against phantoms, and maybe even the angry god or rogue regalia.” 

“Woah wait one second,” Rafael had a few questions, “These can hold gods?”

Bella shrugged, “If the god isn’t armed or uber powerful, yeah, sure.” 

“And what are phantoms?” He moved onto his second question. 

“Corrupted spirits or alebrijés,” Bella answered. “They cause a lot of trouble.”

Rafael frowned, “I just keep getting more questions…”

Bella smiled, “Why don’t we just worry on actually making a borderline first then?” She held up her hand. “First, hold out your index and middle fingers,” she modeled for Rafael, who copied her, “build up some energy,” she continued instructing him, making the tips of her finger tips glow with a white light, “then you draw a light in front of you and release that energy,” Bella swiped her fingers in front of her, once again creating a thin wall of light. 

Now that Rafael had been paying attention, it actually looked like the barrier formed right where Bella drew the line in mid-air. 

The barrier faded and Bella turned to Rafael, “Ready to try it Rafa?” 

Rafael furrowed his brows in concentration. He held up his hand with his two fingers still being held out. He wasn’t quite sure how to focus his energy, so he opted for focusing his attention at his fingertips. That was when he noticed that they were calloused.  _ Huh, learned something new! _ Rafael then imagined drawing a line in front of him with his fingers. 

Nothing happened. 

He frowned, brought his hand back, and tried again. 

Still nothing. 

Rafael tried a third time. 

“I think that blade of grass will have to watch out,” Bella teased him. “Oh nevermind, that was just the wind.”

“Ha. Ha.” Rafael replied dryly before trying again to no avail. 

After his fifth time, he looked at Bella for help. 

“Maybe you need some incentive,” Bella suggested, already brainstorming a solution. 

“Sí…? What are you thinking?” Rafael asked. 

“We’re going to need some pillows,” Bella’s eyes were gleaming.

“Uh… how many?” 

“A lot!” Bella ran back inside excitedly. 

*

With a flash, Xōchipilli and Atzi were back in the heavenly realm. Xōchipilli let out an exasperated sigh, and scratched the back of his head, “Why is it all of a sudden, regalia are being incredibly hard to find?

“Especially in a city as large as Mexico City,” Atzi agreed, “Rafael was a good find, but there were at least three weeks between us finding him and Isabela. Maybe we should try a different city?” 

“Perhaps.” They started walking through the entrance of Xōchipilli’s temple, “I wonder…” Xōchipilli remarked, “There has been an increase in phantoms. It’s very likely that they are corrupting all the spirits, which in turn creates more phantoms.”

Atzi pressed her lips together, “If that’s the case, then the problem is feeding itself. We’ll have to be faster if we want to-”

“ATZI DUCK!” Bella yelled. 

Instinctively, Atzi stepped in front of Xōchipilli and drew a border line. A pillow bounced harmlessly off of it. 

Bella emerged from a pile of pillows, “See Rafa! THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO!”

Rafael picked up a pillow from behind some bushes and threw it at Bella, “Aha!” he exclaimed as it hit her, “I dunno about you, but this seems much more effective!” he threw another one at her. 

Bella squeaked alarmed and ducked behind her pillow fort, “There aren’t going to be any pillows around when we fight phantoms!” she argued. A split second later she threw another pillow at Rafael. 

“I err…” Xōchipilli stepped in between the pillow war, “What’s going on?” He eyed the two of them, worried for a moment that they were fighting. His worry was quickly dispelled when he saw the playful smiles stretched across their faces. 

Bella threw a pillow at Xōchipilli who caught it midair. 

Bella grinned, “Rafael was having trouble with the borderline so I’d thought I’d give him something to react to. But  **somebody** ,” Bella gave Rafael a stink eye as he also crawled out of his hiding spot, “decided it’d be better to throw the pillows back at me.”

Xōchipilli couldn’t help but laugh at their antics, and tossed the pillow to Rafael who caught it, “Don’t forget it takes a while to learn how to draw borderlines Bella. It’s his first day.”

“Maybe I just wanted to throw pillows at him,” Isabela offered.

“Childish,” Atzi scoffed at them. 

Xōchipilli rolled his eyes at Atzi, “Well next time the two of you want to throw pillows at each other, make sure I’m around, I’d love to join in!”

Atzi scowled at him. 

“Why not now?” Rafael invited. 

“Atzi and I had no luck searching for more spirits, so we’d thought more eyes might help us,” Xōchipilli explained, “After you two are done cleaning up,” Xōchipilli emphasized that part, “we’re all going to go to Santa Cecilia to search for more regalia together.”


	3. Little town

Rafael jumped up and down excitedly, “Santa Cecilia exists? We get to meet her?”

Everyone exchanged confused glances. 

“You know, the patron saint of music?” Rafael added.

“Oh,” Xōchipilli caught on to what he was saying, “Err, I meant the town.”

“The town?” Rafael tilted his head, already crestfallen.

Xōchipilli crossed his arms pensively, “I must admit, if she exists, I have never met her. It’s entirely possible she does not live here.”

“Oh…” 

Xōchipilli clasped a hand on Rafael’s shoulder, “Not to worry, perhaps I could do some investigating for you.” 

Rafael smiled meekly before brightening up again, “So then when are we leaving?” 

“Now,” Xōchipilli answered, and with the wave of hand and a flash of light, they suddenly found themselves in the center of a busy plaza. 

Rafael gaped, “Wait, just like that? You can just WOOSH and we’re here?” 

“Well, most gods need to teleport to shrines or temples dedicated to them, but Pilli can just teleport to places where people are having fun,” Isabela explained. 

Xōchipilli patted her head in thanks for the explanation, “From here on, we split up, Atzi and I will search for new regalia together, and Rafa, you’ll be with Bella.” 

“Yes sir,” Atzi replied dutifully, while Isabela nodded brightly. They both turned to look at Rafael to see if he had gotten it too, but he was already distracted oogling at the passerbys and musicians.

Atzi shook her head disapprovingly. 

Xōchipilli merely chuckled. He then nudged Bela and bent down to her level, “Keep an eye on him for me?” he whispered. 

Bela tilted her head, “What like showing him the ropes and explaining things to him?”

Xōchipilli smiled and patted her shoulder. “Let’s go Atzi,” he called her over. 

The two headed north, and as they did, Atzi muttered a complaint at Rafael’s expense as they wandered off. 

Isabela face Rafael, “Rafa,” she called him. She snickered at his startled jump before he faced her. “Come here, there are some things you need to know before we go have fun.”

“Uh sí, what else should I know?” he asked her. 

Isabela flipped her hair matter-of-factly, “Xōchipilli would go off on tangents about the near-shore and the far-shore, which for reference, that just means the living and the not quite living, but I’m going to make it simple for you!” she grinned at him, “We’re not part of the living technically, so the people here, are going to have a hard time seeing us, like we might as well be invisible, so don’t get disappointed if it seems like they’re ignoring you.” 

Rafael made a face, “Well what’s the fun of being around all these people if they can’t see us?” 

“Imagine the pranks though!” Isabela pointed out. 

That got a mischievous smile out of Rafael, “Still though.”

“Don’t worry, there are exceptions,” Isabela assured him, “Children and animals can see us! But let’s go look for some spirits.” 

“Can we watch those musicians first?” Rafael asked. 

Isabela shrugged, “Why not? Sounds fun!” 

As they watched Rafael hummed along, and bobbed his head in unison with the trumpet’s bob. For a moment, he felt unsettled. He was dead technically right? Bella had just explained that because he was dead, nobody would see him, and he also felt disconnected from everyone else in an ethereal way. And yet, at the same time, he still looked like he was alive. His body was warm. Just earlier that day he had felt hungry, and now he was enjoying music.  _ Is this really what it means to be dead? _ He wondered. For someone who was supposed to be dead, he felt very much alive. 

He looked at Isabela who was attempting her very own makeshift dance, “Do you know how to dance to this?” he asked her. 

“No, but I sure try!” 

He grinned, appreciating her enthusiasm, “Want me to show you?” 

“You know how?” 

“Mas claro! Come here, your hands go like this,” Rafael showed Isabela how the dance went. Lucky for him, she was a much faster learner at dancing than he was at making borderlines. Maybe he could just dance at the phantoms and they would join in. 

Rafael snorted at his own idea. He wasn’t quite sure what phantoms were or how they looked like, but he just imagined an immense, powerful, terrifying monster doing a jig. 

“I think I like my dance better,” Isabela mused as she switched back. 

“Alright, show me your dance,” Rafael replied. 

“Well there’s a lot of spinning!” Isabela showed him, and started explaining the crazy logic behind the rest. 

That’s when Rafael felt eyes on him. Somebody was watching him. Frowning, he looked up at where he felt the stare coming from. He needed to search. Rafael couldn’t find who was looking at him. 

He was about to shrug it off and rejoin Isabela in her crazy dance when he spotted the gaze. It was from a little girl. She was looking at him from the other side of the plaza.

The little girl stared at Rafael intently, and he found he couldn’t look away. Out of the corner of his mouth, he hissed at Bella, “I thought you said people couldn’t see us.”

Isabela peered around Rafael and spotted the girl, “I said they had a hard time seeing us, not that they couldn’t.”

A woman appeared and grabbed the little girl’s hand and pulled her away, all the while she never once broke eye contact with Rafael. 

Rafael mulled it over, “But she saw me.”

Isabela rolled her eyes, “Yes Rafa, she saw you. I do remember telling you that animals and children could still see us?”

Rafael grabbed his goatee, puzzled, “Oh.”

Isabela peered at him curiously before offering, “Let’s go say hi!”

“Really?” 

Isabela grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd, “Come on!” As they made their way through, Isabela added, “It’s a good idea because there’s a chance she might’ve seen spirits too and we can ask her about it.” 

*

“What’s on your mind Atzi?” Xōchipilli eyed her as they walked, scanning the relatively peaceful and spirit free streets. He could feel his chest churning with Atzi’s emotions painfully. 

“I’m fine,” she muttered, hyper focused on the task. 

“Rafael and Bella were both in high spirits,” he pointed out gently. 

Atzi glanced at him, “My apologies, I hope I’m not causing you too much grief.” 

“Perhaps maybe you should talk about it?” Xōchipilli suggested.  _ Still no spirits… At least there are no phantoms here. _ He found himself thinking. 

“Are you sure there are any spirits here in this small town?” Atzi echoed his thoughts. “Why did we really come here?” 

“We are looking for spirits, but I suppose you’re right in that I should have expected to not find much,” Xōchipilli shrugged, “At least we could enjoy a nice day. The people here are much more relaxed than the bustle in Mexico City.” Xōchipilli crouched down as a dog came up to sniff him curiously. He offered his hand for the dog to smell before giving him a few pats on the head.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Atzi pressed, “Why did we really come here?” 

“Ah,” Xōchipilli smiled, “You haven’t answered me either.” He stood back up and resumed searching for spirits. 

Atzi crossed her arms, “Fine. I was thinking about Xolotl.”

“You were thinking about the attack,” Xōchipilli corrected, “stop dwelling on it, we need to focus on rebuilding.” 

Atzi glared at the dog that started following them. The dog whined at her hostility and slipped away, “Why did he attack us Pilli? We didn’t do anything!  **You** didn’t do anything! Doesn’t he know that you can’t reincarnate now? None of the gods can! Not while the people are worshipping-,” 

“Atzi,” Xōchipilli interrupted her before she could insult the other God.

“Sorry,” she bowed her head, but her scowl remained. “But think about it. Why would Xolotl do something like this?” 

Xōchipilli stopped for a moment and stared at his reflection from a window. The good news was, he no longer looked like a sixty year old man. Bad news, he still was no where close to looking like the young adult he should have been. 

“I agree, it’s strange,” he answered her, “Not even past incarnations of Xolotl have done anything of the sort.”

Atzi stood next to him, and met his eyes in the reflection, “You’re the only god who hasn’t reincarnated.”

“Well when you’re a peaceful god,” Xōchipilli moved on, it wasn’t good to dwell on reflections. 

“What I mean is, was there anything that happened in Xolotl’s previous lives that could have suggested this? Or…”

“Hmmm,” Xōchipilli thought hard. He never really involved himself with the drama of other gods, and goodness,  **had there been a lot of drama** . He had always been more focused on simply having a good time. Many of the myths and legends of the gods got wildly distorted over time, and since he hadn’t actually actively participated he didn’t know how many legends were true. “Well, I do know he was once killed by Ehecatl, but that was a long time ago, there are at least two incarnations between that and the Xolotl that’s here now. Chances he’d be after revenge are unlikely.” 

They walked a while longer in silence. 

“Do you think he’s finally lost it? You know… like Tlaloc did? Instead of focusing on guiding souls to the afterlife, he’s been just killing them?”

Xōchipilli hadn’t considered that, “I don’t know. It would provide an explanation for the increase in phantoms, but the other factor in that is that our guardian deities are less now, or just not doing their jobs.” Xōchipilli’s shoulders sagged, defeated, “There’s no way to tell.” 

Atzi pressed her lips together and stared at the ground. 

It would take a while for the weight of what happened to be lifted from her, but at least the churning that had been bothering Xōchipilli went away. At least he had managed to quiet that for now. 

“Your turn,” Atzi changed topics, “Why are we really here?” 

Xōchipilli smiled, “I just wanted to treat Rafa. I know you complain about it’s size, but it truly is a charming town.”

“Is he from here?” 

“Yes,” Xōchipilli revealed. 

“Are you sure this was a good idea then?” Atzi challenged. 

Xōchipilli waved her off,  “You know as well as I do, that those of the near-shore are just noise to you regalia.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Atzi stopped to glance at a family of four, “You taking me to my own village all those centuries ago is what helped me survive the attack.” Atzi then suddenly spun and faced Xōchipilli. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? In case we’re attacked again then-,”

Xōchipilli gently grabbed her hand and pulled it off of his collar, “Don’t jump to conclusions Atzi. It would be wonderful if this could protect him from that but I’m just here because I like to get to know my regalia and there’s no better way of doing that than visiting their hometowns. Plus, they always enjoy visiting their old homes even if they don’t recognize it.” 

Atzi crossed her arms and glowered at the ground. 

Xōchipilli grasped her shoulder, “It’s not always about battle advantage.”

“We clearly need to start thinking about it,” Atzi challenged. 

“Xolotl thinks we’re dead,” Xōchipilli pointed out, “He won’t come back for a while. We just have to lay low and recover our strength.”

“But what if-,”

“The fight is over Atzi,” Xōchipilli insisted, “Now is the time for healing and rest.” 

That finally quieted her down. Her restlessness didn’t go away, but she quieted. As Xōchipilli refocused his attention on finding more regalia, he couldn’t help but wonder if what he said were actually true. 

*

“Bellaaaaa!” Rafael called over the crowds, “Isabela???” They had somehow gotten separated. Even though Rafael felt like this was a safe place, and considering how people would most likely not even notice her, she was most likely okay. However, he still couldn’t help but feel panicked at the realization that he had lost a literal child in the crowd. 

Euuhhh, Bella better not hear him call her a child. How old was she? Thirteen? Fourteen? Either way, she would not appreciate it. 

Rafael took a few more steps, still keeping his eyes peeled for Bella and her pink dress embroidered with flowers. 

_ Wait a second… can regalia  _ **_age_ ** _?  _ Rafael froze in his tracks to ponder this. It seemed unlikely. As alive as they felt, they were still in fact dead, which probably meant no aging?  _ What about me? _ He wondered.  _ Do the years where I was floating around as a spirit count? Or am I just the age I was when I died? Wait, how old am I anyways? _

Rafael shook himself and resumed his searching. How wonderful. They came here to search for spirits to become regalia. Now he was looking for a regalia that was already Xōchipilli’s. 

“Rafa!! Over here!” Rafael finally heard Isabela’s voice.

He turned in her direction and saw her with three young children, about eight or nine years of age. He ran towards her, “There you are! Don’t just run off like that! I was worried!” 

“Aww,” Isabela crossed her arms, “How cute!” 

Rafael rolled his eyes, then refocused on the children. He knelt down to their level, “Hóla!” he greeted them. 

The girl with the braids stared at him intently. So Isabela had found her after all!  

“Soy Rafael!” He introduced himself. 

The boy waved sheepishly, “I’m Julio, this is my sister Rosita, and that’s Coco.” He introduced the two girls as well. 

“We were playing a game before I found you,” Isabela told Rafael, “It’s called, spot the spirit!” 

Rafael straightened, “Aha, very clever.” 

“I’m winning,” Isabela declared proudly. 

“Nuh-uh!” Rosita denied stomping her foot, “I saw three! You haven’t seen one!”

Isabela tsked and shook her head smirking, “Those were butterflies, and  **I’m** the one who spotted Rafa.” 

“He doesn’t count!” Julio argued. 

Isabela crouched down and whispered loudly, “Have you  **seen** how skinny he is?”

“Hey!”

“I’m telling you,” Isabela continued, “No grown man should be that skinny! Totally a spirit.” 

Rafael crossed his arms, but he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, “Alright alright,” he wanted to refocus Isabela to their original task. Sure they had had some fun before, but wasn't it time they finally got on task? 

“This game is boring,” Rosita picked up a pebble and threw it against a wall, “Let’s play something else.” 

Isabela straightened, “They’re right, this place seems pretty devoid of spirits,” she informed Rafael. 

“Hmm,” Rafael looked at the ground thoughtfully. 

“Come on Bella!” Julio tugged at her hand, “Let’s play fútbol!” 

“I want to play Las Escondidas!” Rosita threw in her two cents. 

Isabela grinned at them, “Why not both?” she suggested. 

The other girl, Coco, distracted Rafael from the conversation. She tugged at his shirt, looking up at him earnestly. 

He met her gaze. 

“Papá?” she tilted her head at him. 

“Err,” Rafael didn’t know how to respond to that, “You can call me Tío if you want,” he offered. 

Coco scowled at him. 

It seemed like she was about to say something, but a new voice entered the mix, “So how are we all doing?” 

Rafael looked up as Xōchipilli and Atzi approached.

“Pilli! Just in time!” Isabela hopped, “We’re about to play a game we made up! Want to join?” 

Xōchipilli looked tempted, but Atzi interrupted, “What about your  **job** ?” 

Rafael held his hands up defensively, “We couldn’t find any and we asked these children for help.” 

Xōchipilli knelt down, “Is that so?” he smiled at them, “was it fun?” 

Julio and Rosita vehemently shook their heads, “We couldn’t find anything!”

“Yeah! It was boring!”

Xōchipilli ruffled both of their hairs, “Well I’m sure you’ll both have fun with your next game,” he stood and faced Rafael and Isabela, “We need to go home, get something to eat and then run some maintenance on the temple. Plus, I think Rafa could use some more help with regalia stuff?” 

Rafael was about to argue, then he shrugged, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” 

Coco clung to his sleeve, “Will you come back?” 

“Sure!” Isabela answered for him, “What do you say Pilli? Rafa and I can come back tomorrow and give this place another look.” 

Xōchipilli’s eyes rested on Coco. For a moment his expression hardened, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, “Good idea,” he agreed facing her, “alongside making sure Rafa gets the borderline down.” 

“Claro!” Isabela agreed, then she looked at the children, “We’ll come back tomorrow okay?” 

“Aww,” Rosita pouted. 

“See you tomorrow!” Julio grabbed the two girls by the hands and they all ran off. Coco glanced behind her shoulder one last time before they vanished behind a corner.

Rafael looked at Xōchipilli, “Is it really okay for us to be so… I dunno, open about all this?” he asked. 

Before answering, they all flashed and were suddenly back at the temple. “Don’t worry Rafa,” Xōchipilli soothed, “I’m sure Bella explained to you we’re hard to notice?” 

“Sí.” 

“We’re also hard to remember. Those children might remember you tomorrow, but give them a few days with no contact and it’ll be like you never even met.” 

Rafael frowned, “That sounds rather… lonely actually.” 

“Don’t worry! You’ve got us don’t you?” Isabela pointed out. 

“Sí,” Rafael made a small smile, “you’re right.” 


	4. A borderline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys, I got stuck on the transitions! (plus IRL stuff going on keeping me busy)

 

“Borderline!”

Rafael made a face as he failed to make a borderline yet again. 

“UHHHNNNNGGGGGG!” He groaned angrily and kicked a rock out of frustration. It flew in the air for several meters before tumbling on the ground. 

“That’s the spirit! When phantoms come you can just kick rocks at them!” Isabela teased. 

“Why is this so hard?!” Rafael huffed crossing his arms. 

“Maybe because you two keep sneaking off to Santa Cecilia to goof off instead of doing what you’re supposed to,” Atzi suggested. “You’ve already gone five times not including when everyone went there! And what do you do? You play games with children!” she scolded. “I’d bet my name you’re probably going there later today.”

“Aww, Atzi!” Isabela whined playfully, resting her chin atop her hands innocently, “Are you sure you’re Pilli’s regalia cuz pretty sure he’s the god of having fun, which you don’t seem to know how to do.”

Atzi scowled. 

“Is that really what Xōchipilli is the god of?” Rafael asked.

“Sort of?” Isabela shrugged, “He’s the god of a lot of things.” 

“Alright, enough time wasting,” Atzi interrupted. She stood up from her spot and marched on over to Rafael, “Let me show you how it’s really done.” 

Rafael stood next to her as she pulled her hair up. Then she glanced at him.

“Alright watch closely.”

Atzi took a step back with one foot, she held her hand close to her face, and then while yelling out the command, she whipped out a massive glowing white line that left a path of destruction in its wake. The ground had been upturned, grass was everywhere and…

“THE MUSHROOMS!” Isabela screeched in alarm. She ran over to them and knelt, “Oh no,” she hastily tried placing the tops back but it was utterly futile. 

Atzi covered her mouth in horror, “Oh no, I didn’t… I put too much force into it.”

Rafael tilted his head, “These are just mushrooms, what’s the big deal?”

Both Isabela and Atzi snapped their gazes to him. 

“It’s  **Xōchipilli’s** mushrooms!” Isabela re-emphisized, as if that explained everything.

“So?” 

There was a distant yell from atop of the temple, “Was that my mushrooms?!” 

Atzi’s shoulders sagged, “This was my fault, why don’t you two just go to Santa Cecilia and I’ll deal with this.”

Rafael exchanged uncertain glances with Isabela, “Err, are you sure?”

Atzi took a breath before facing them, “Yes.” 

“Okay see ya!” Isabela grabbed Rafael’s arm and the two scurried off. 

“TRAITORS!” they heard her yell out. 

Isabela snickered, “She acts all mighty and noble but she secretly  **wants** help.” 

Rafael smiled, “Well we could’ve stuck it out a little longer instead of immediately just taking off.” 

After a quick flash, they were in Santa Cecilia’s plaza. 

“True,” Isabela agreed, “But where’s the fun in that?” 

As they walked around looking for their three young friends, Rafael wondered out loud, “I wonder what other game Coco will have thought up for today.” 

“You really like Coco, don’t you?” Isabela asked. 

“She’s such a delight!” Rafael agreed. 

Rafael took in a huge breath, taking in all of the smells of the Santa Cecilia market. 

“Looks like she’s not the only thing that delights you,” Bella pointed out. 

Rafael shrugged, “It’s a nice town!” 

The two didn’t need to walk much further before they started hearing “TIO RAFA! BELLA!” Out in the distance, and a moment later two children tackled them with hugs. 

“Rosita! Julio!” Rafael hugged them back. “Where’s Coco?” he asked. 

“Her mamá said she couldn’t play today,” Rosita shrugged. 

“Oh,” Rafael tried to hide his disappointment.

“Can you take us to the haunted shack?” Rosita requested eagerly. 

“Haunted shack?” Isabela’s eyes lit up as she crouched and tilted her head. 

Rosita nodded, “There’s an abandoned shack just outside of town, and we think it’s haunted! We really want to see it!”

“I don’t,” Julio crossed his arms. “Mamá and Papá said we can’t go alone!” 

“We’re not alone! We found Tio Rafa and Bella!” Rosita pointed out.  

Julio pouted.

“You’re just being a baby,” Rosita stuck her tongue out. 

“Am not!”

“Are too!” 

As they argued, Rafael turned to Isabela, “You know, I would probably be the one who said it wasn’t really haunted and that it was just superstition, but given that you and I are technically ghosts, what do you think?”

Isabela proudly planted her hands on her hips, “There is a spirit there! I have no doubt about it! We should go for Pilli!” 

Rafael grinned, “And Atzi will finally get off our backs! Bueno!” 

“I’m not going!” Julio huffed, crossing his arms and plopping down on the ground. 

Rosita rolled her eyes, “Yeah you are. We’re going and you’re going to follow us.”

Julio glared at her. 

“If you come with us, I promise I’ll do a weird dance that will scare the ghosts away!” Rafael egged him. 

Julio glared at him out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze momentarily softened, “What kind of weird dance?” 

“Well if he told you it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Bella hopped into the conversation. 

Julio pursed his lips, thinking intently, “It better be a funny dance,” he relented. 

Rafael grinned and offered him a hand to help stand up which Julio accepted. He then rubbed his hands together excitedly, “Which way is this haunted shack?” 

“This way!” Rosita squealed and took off running. It took a few seconds of process to realize the girl had just taken off on them, but Rafael, Isabela and Julio were quick to start off their pursuit. 

“Hey, wait, do your parents know where you are?” he asked as they ran. It suddenly dawned on Rafael that their parents hadn't wanted them going there, maybe because it was rather farther away? 

“Oh relax Rafa, they’re with us!” Bella tried to appease him. 

Rafael scowled, “We know they’re safe sure, but their parents will worry if they don’t know where they are.”

“We told them we were going to play,” Julio informed Rafael. 

“That’s right!” Isabela agreed, “It’s fine!” 

“We’re here!” Rosita announced. 

They slowed to a stop. Both Rosita and Julio leaned on their knees to catch their breaths. 

The shack itself didn’t look different or unique in any way, just like some old shack that had been abandoned. There was skinny tree growing by it with some bushes. They couldn’t have been more than a block away from town. Not too far, but he could see why parents would at least want some supervision. Rafael tilted his head and opened the door examining the shack. 

“It looks completely normal,” he told them. 

“Yeah, but the kids who usually play here said a ghost showed up the other day!” Rosita peered around curiously. 

Rafael tilted his head, a faint smile on his lips. He could easily imagine children coming here to play and pretend. Had he been younger, he could even imagine himself doing so. 

Bella circled around the shack, “I don’t see any spirits.” 

Rafael peered inside, “Me neither,” he agreed. 

“But it’s supposed to be haunted!” Rosita complained.

“Good!” Julio crossed his arms triumphantly. 

Bella came back around and leaned on the door frame, “Well, Rafa and I could still give it a good haunt for you if you’d like!” she offered sticking out her tongue. 

“You don’t count! You’re not ghosts!” Rosita argued. 

Rafael felt a sudden chill go down his spine, and he turned to see if he could spot anything. All he got was a sense of dread that something was watching them…

“Actually,” Isabela was grinning, “Rafa and I are-,”

“Ey chicos…” Rafael interrupted, “Anybody feel that?”

Bella turned to look at where Rafael was facing. Both kids suddenly clung to Rafael’s legs. 

“SmELlsnICe SMELLSNICE,” a disjointed voice crept up. 

“Uh oh…” Isabela muttered over the “smells nice” chanting.

The shadows beneath the bush converged, clumping together like sludge. As the shadows bubbled together, they started taking the form of a large dog. 

Rafael found himself instinctively sticking out his arms to push everyone behind him. 

There was the sound of a heartbeat, and the shadow-dog opened its eyes, all four of them, and it was as if its vague body snapped into focus. Despite being dog shaped, the phantom had eight legs, and two tails. 

“Bella…” Rafael was almost too afraid to ask, “what is that?”

Bella laughed nervously, “That would be a phantom.”

The phantom took a step towards them. 

“Uh huh, great and what does it want?” 

“Well, either it wants to possess the kids, or it wants to eat you and me.”

“SMELLSNICE!” 

“Yeah, I think it wants to eat us,” Bella concluded. 

The phantom lunged. 

“Run!” Rafael yelled. 

Julio and Rosita screamed and made a mad dash back towards town with Rafael and Bella hot on their heels. 

“Don’t let it touch you! You’ll get blighted!” Bella warned over the screaming. 

“Now is not the time exposition!!!” Rafael argued. 

“SPLIT UP!” Bella suggested and took a hard left. 

Rafael scooped both kids up in arms and kept heading forward. He looked over his shoulder only to see the phantom split itself into two, its eyes and limbs now more reminiscent of an actual dog since it had even split itself. 

_ Well great apparently it can do that _ , Rafael found himself scowling over the terrified screaming. 

Luckily they had just ran back into town, so with some good effort, they might be able to shake the phantom off! 

“Go right!” Julio shrieked into Rafael’s ear.

Rafael winced but did his best to turn while carrying two children at a full run. 

“Then go left!” Rosita jumped in. 

“No it’s right again!” Julio argued. 

“SMELLSNICE” the phantom threw in its two cents. 

“Ay,” Rafael complained, and turned at the nearest left. He skidded on the cobblestone a little, nearly feeling more terrified for a moment about falling and landing on the children than the actual phantom. 

“FASTER TIO RAFA!” Rosita clutched at him desperately. 

“I’m trying!” even Rafael could feel himself slowing down. He turned into an alley with the hopes that the obstacles would slow down the phantom and actually give them a chance. 

There was a weird snarl-cry from the phantom as it leaped at them, and Rafael found himself being forced to turn to the right into another alley. 

“No not that way!” Julio cried out panicked. 

It was a dead end. Rafael skidded to a stop, and glanced over his shoulder, only to see the phantom’s glowing eyes approaching him. He set Julio and Rosita down, and once again stretched out his arms defensively. 

“sMEllSniCE SmeLlSnICe,” the phantom prowled closer. 

Rafael felt Julio and Rosita trembling as they clutched at his shirt. 

Before any more thought could be given to the situation, the phantom jumped ready to pounce on them, and by pure instinct, Rafael drew an imaginary line with his two fingers in the air. 

There was a whimper and a clang as the phantom bashed itself head first into a wall of light. Rafael stared stunned. 

Julio and Rosita gaped as the phantom got back up and paced, before repeatedly trying to reach them through the light, only to meet a solid wall of energy. 

“Rafa! I found you!” Isabela’s voice sounded from the end of the alley. 

“Bella careful!” Rafael tried warning her. 

But Bella ran head first into their direction. Maybe he imagined it, maybe he didn’t, but Rafael could have sworn he saw the phantom smirk before jumping towards Bella. To everyone’s surprise however, Bella bravely stood her ground. 

“ **Border!** ” She yelled, and in a flash of light shaped like a blade, the phantom was suddenly split in half. The look of shock and utter surprise frozen on its face before it burst into light and vanished. 

Isabela approached them, “Rafa! You drew a borderline!” 

Rafael blinked, “I did? Yes I did…” his wall of light faded.

“Bella!!!” Julio and Rosita shrieked with joy and ran to hug her. “You saved us!” 

“Wasn’t there another one?” Rafael asked as he approached. 

“Took care of that one too!” Bella grinned. 

“How did you do that?” Rosita asked. 

Bella winked at them, “Well, as I was saying earlier before we got interrupted, Rafa and I are spirits, so we’re technically ghosts.” 

“WHAT?” Julio suddenly cringed. 

“Rafa and I can draw borderlines because we’re spirits!” Bella continued, “Although, this was the first time he did it cuz HE’S A SLACKERRRRR!” 

Rafael crossed his arms, “I didn’t see you carrying two children at once.” 

Bella stuck out her tongue at him. 

“You said that thing was a phantom?” Rosita continued with her questions.

Bella nodded.

“Like another ghost?” 

“An evil ghost,” Isabela put her finger on her lip, mimicking an evil moustache.  

“So then, what’s the difference between you and phantoms?” Rosita asked. 

“Phantoms are corrupted spirits,” Isabela answered brightly. 

“Corrupted?” Julio asked. After a moment of thinking he added, “Like, getting hungry?”

Before Isabela could answer, Rafael’s stomach growled. 

The children both stared at Rafael.

Unable to resist, Rafael threw himself on the ground, “Oh no,” he said, then started flailing wildly, “I’m going to turn into a phantom now!” he flopped from side to side on the ground.

Rosita and Julio shrieked and ran off to hide behind Isabela. 

Isabela laughed but she rolled her eyes, “Knock it off Rafa! You’re scaring them!”

Rafael rolled onto his stomach and reached out for Isabela, moaning dramatically, “OHHHHHHHHHHH BUT I’M SO HUNGRY!” 

Isabela crossed her arms, “Uh-huh.”

“Feed me.”

“Get up!” Isabela chortled. 

Rosita and Julio peeked from behind Isabela, “He’s… not getting corrupted?” They approached him hesitantly. 

“No no,” Isabela laughed, “that’s not how you get corrupted!” 

“How would you know?” Rafael teased, then he grabbed Julio and held him on top of him, “I’m just sooooo hungry,” he started tickling the boy while making gobble noises. 

“Nooooooo,” Julio laughed while trying to escape. 

“Let my brother go!” Rosita joined in on the fun, and jumped on top of Rafael who let out an oof. 

“Muahahaha! Now I got you both!” Rafael started tickling her too. 

The children squirmed out of his grasp and stood up laughing and out of breath. 

“You happy, Rafa?” Isabela crouched down next to him, “Your shirt is all dirty.” 

Rafael smirked at her, “I am a hungry phantom now! I eat dirty shirts!” 

Isabela grinned and offered him a hand to stand, which he accepted, “Right O mighty phantom,” she mocked, “Let’s get these kids home and then report back to Pilli.”


	5. Phantoms and Regalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter

Xōchipilli approached the regalia who were all in the kitchen. Rafael was happily cooking. It seemed that he and Bella were telling a story of sorts to Atzi who was also preparing something. 

Before Xōchipilli could even ask what they were talking about, Isabela spotted him, “Pilli!” she called out to him, “Guess what?! Rafa drew a borderline!” 

Xōchipilli smiled, “That’s wonderful! When did this happen?” 

“We were in Santa Cecilia!” Rafael glanced over his shoulder.

“Sí sí! And there was this phantom, we were just telling Atzi-,” Isabela continued eagerly. 

“Wait phantom?” Xōchipilli interrupted. 

Isabela nodded, “Yeah, a phantom went after us and some kids and I guess that was the push Rafa needed. Now we need to make sure you get better at it!” she crossed her arms and faced him. 

Xōchipilli exchanged concerned glances with Atzi, “There were phantoms in a town as small as Santa Cecilia?” 

“They were small, it’s okay,” Isabela assured him. 

Rafael spun around from his cooking, “That was small??” 

“Uh yeah coyote or dog sized phantoms are small,” Bella confirmed. 

“How big do they get??” 

“They vary in size like alebrijés,” Xōchipilli told him, “But it’s safe to assume that that average size for them range from a small shack to a house, but that’s not to say they can’t be much smaller or much bigger.” 

Rafael let out an impressed whistle, “And uh… remind me what alebrijés are again?” 

“I’ll tell you later Rafa! I want to finish my story!” Isabela whined. “Especially now that Pilli’s here!”

“Alright alright,” Rafael shrugged it off. 

Xōchipilli sat down at the table as Bella continued telling them about how the phantom had split itself into two to follow them after they split up. 

After she finished her story, she ran eagerly over to Rafael to ask to sample his food. 

“Come on just a little biiiiite!” Isabela clinged to his elbow.

“It’s not ready yet!” Rafael playfully pushed her away. 

“Rafa!” 

Xōchipilli leaned over to Atzi while Rafael struggled to keep Isabela away from the food. “I know that the phantoms have always been a nuisance but it seems like their numbers don’t stop increasing,” he lamented. 

“There are a lot more than usual,” she agreed. “Do you think that Xolotl got the gods whose jobs are phantom slaying?”

Xōchipilli stroked his chin, “Either that or they are too afraid to leave the heavenly realm and do their jobs.”

“Maybe a certain someone should pick up the slack?” Atzi suggested, “The rise in the amount of phantoms will cause no good in the lower realm.”

Xōchipilli pressed his lips together, “You’re right of course, but it’s not really my thing.” 

There was a  _ chink _ as Rafael set his pot of mexican rice  on the table and slipped into a seat next to Xōchipilli. 

“I still have some question about phantoms,” he told him. 

Xōchipilli turned to face him, “Ask away.”

“What do phantoms do exactly?”

“They possess people and drive them to do horrible things,” Atzi answered for Xōchipilli. 

“Well sort of,” Xōchipilli half concurred, “People are capable by themselves of doing horrible things, but when phantoms get involved, it gets worse. People feel compelled.”

“Why do phantoms do this then?”

Xōchipilli shrugged, “Maybe it’s their nature, maybe they can’t help it, no one really knows.”

Rafael took it all in. Meanwhile Isabela had grabbed some plates and was setting the table for everyone. 

“Bella mentioned that phantoms were corrupted spirits? How does that happen exactly?” Rafael continued. 

Xōchipilli and Atzi exchanged glances. 

“It can happen a couple different ways…” Xōchipilli started, “The most common way is that an unnamed spirit gets corrupted by the phantoms around it before it even has a chance to be found and named.”

“Can regalias become phantoms?” 

Xōchipilli hesitated to answer. 

“Yes,” Atzi answered for him. 

Rafael squirmed, “How? Can phantoms possess us too?” 

“Well no,” Xōchipilli decided to answer him before Atzi could, “Phantoms can blight you, but that’s not the same as corruption. Usually, a regalia already has the ability to become a phantom by themselves if they find that change within themsleves.” He kept it as vague as possible. 

“Like when a regalia sins too much and stings their master right?” Isabela jumped in the conversation, “phantoms will start forming on the body of the regalia and they need to go through ablution, a cleansing ritual to burn out the phantoms.”

Rafael grimaced. Xōchipilli kept his face neutral. There was one other way regalia could become corrupted within, but… 

“C’mon guys, let’s lighten up!” Isabela stood up excitedly, “After we eat, let’s have a dancing competition!” 

“No,” Atzi said flatly. Xōchipilli felt relief as her glare for his lack of explanation moved off of him and onto Bella. 

“It’d be so much fun!!” Isabela promised. “You’re up for it, right Rafa?” 

“Mas claro que sí!” he readily agreed. 

“Pilli!” Atzi turned to him, “Tell them we don’t have time for dancing!”

“Actually,” Xōchipilli leaned on his elbows, “I think it’s a wonderful idea.” 

“Ugh!” Atzi crossed her arms while Rafael and Isabela high-fived each other. 

_ Phantoms… _ Xōchipilli thought to himself while he watched Rafael. Sure, he had had regalia whose causes of deaths was most likely directly or indirectly due to a phantom. But he had also had plenty of regalia where this simply wasn’t true. There was something weird about Rafael’s death. Xōchipilli shrugged it off. 


	6. Depravity and Denying

Rafael wasn’t quite sure what kept bringing him back to Santa Cecilia. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was the people or the smells… He picked up an orange from a food stand and smelled it. If only he had money to buy it! It smelled wonderful. 

Placing the orange back, he glanced behind him at the sound of children screaming in their game. 

_ Maybe it’s because of a certain little group of friends _ , he thought to himself with a smile.  _ I wonder if I’ll see Coco and her friends today… _ He really hoped so. Santa Cecilia had already been deemed a dead spot for new regalia, so he couldn’t very well use  **that** excuse for coming here. He felt like maybe he was coming here for inspiration of sorts.

_ Inspiration for what though…? _ He found himself wondering. 

**

“Do you think Rafael will be alright alone?” Atzi asked as they walked through Monterrey. 

“He can do a borderline, he’ll be fine!” Isabela waved it off. 

“Where did he say he was going to go again?” Atzi asked. 

“Santa Cecilia,” Xōchipilli answered. 

“Why does he want to go to that tiny place again?!” Atzi made a face. “That’s the seventh time!” 

Isabela shrugged, “He made some friends there.” 

“We’re regalia, we don’t have near-shore friends,” Atzi rolled her eyes. 

Xōchipilli remained quiet. Bella had mentioned that they had met this little girl that Rafael had taken quite a liking to. 

“Do you know anything Pilli?” Atzi asked. 

Before Xōchipilli could answer her, Bella yelled out, “BORDER!” and a white border line appeared in front of them, just in time to stop a small phantom which slammed into it. 

“Good eye Bella!” Xōchipilli praised. 

The phantom charged towards the barrier again and again, grunting and hissing each time it touched. 

“Why isn’t Quetzalcoatl doing his job?!” Atzi hissed, readying her own fingers. She gave Bella a nod, who dropped the borderline, and Atzi promtply drew her own, midair right were the phantom was, effectively slicing it and defeating it into a burst of light. 

Xōchipilli glanced to the sky. “Out of all the gods, he should be the only one with little to no problems…” he agreed at the oddity of it. Perhaps with the influx of phantoms, he couldn’t keep up. 

Phantoms danced in the sky. 

Atzi turned and face Xōchipilli, “We should get out of here or they’ll notice us, and hunt us down.”

Bella held her hand at the ready, “I think we’re past being noticed…” 

The phantoms were descending from above and appearing from the nooks and crannies of the street. Within seconds, the three were surrounded. 

“ **Dorian** !” Xōchipilli summoned Atzi, who, in a flash of light, promptly turned into a staff decorated with flowers.

**

Rafael wandered through the plaza taking in the sights around him. He tried waving to passers by only to remember that they couldn’t see him. 

He leaned against a building. More than being one of Xōchipilli’s regalia, he felt like he belonged here. Maybe it was just that he missed people and the temple was a little barren for Rafael’s tastes. Sometimes, it even felt foreign.

Rafael turned to head somewhere else, but suddenly something slammed into him and then he felt arms wrap around him. 

He looked down and saw Coco clutching at him, holding back tears. To his surprise, he felt his own heart throb painfully. 

“Ey ey ey Chica,” Rafael pulled out of the hug so that he could kneel and get to her level, “What’s wrong?” 

Coco sniffled, and then went right back to hugging him, burying her face into his shoulder. 

Rafael wrapped his arms around her concerned, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, “Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

“Mmm…” she declined. 

Rafael scooped her up and stood, “Come on, let’s go somewhere with less people,” he offered, carrying her out of the plaza. 

**

Xōchipilli swat at the phantoms as they charged at him using his staff. He often found himself back to back with Bella who was skillfully keeping them at bay with her borderline. 

He ducked as a smaller one jumped right at his head. 

“SMELLSNICE” all the phantoms kept saying. 

“Pilli,” Atzi spoke, “we need to slay them.”

“Ah yes,” Xōchipilli agreed sarcastically, “I’ll just- ACK!” Xōchipilli dropped to his knees clutching at his chest as a sharp pain suddenly blossomed. 

“Pilli!” Atzi and Bella called out simultaneously.

“What’s wrong?” Atzi asked as Bella hit an approaching phantom with a borderline. “Did a phantom get you?” 

Xōchipilli stood shakily, the tight pain in his chest, worsening, “It’s Rafael.” 

The trio backed themselves into a corner from which Isabela made an uncrossable line. The phantoms paced restlessly, “SMelLSniCe”

“What do you mean it’s Rafael?” Atzi asked. “What happened? Did he sting you?”

**

Rafael tried his hardest to keep himself composed, but his heart was racing. What  **happened** ? He hated seeing her like this! Rafael wanted to help her, and make it stop. 

Finally finding a suitable tree, Rafael eased himself down to sit. It seemed like the brief walk had calmed Coco down somewhat and she was no longer crying. But she still clutched at his shirt. 

He rocked back and forth as he hummed to her gently. Rafael had no idea if she would tell him what happened. Probably not, now that he thought about it. They had only met a couple of times. They weren’t exactly strangers, but not too far off from it. Although, Rafael still couldn’t help but feel like he already knew her. 

“I like your song,” Coco mumbled finally. 

“You do?” Rafael stopped humming to ask, glad he had distracted her. 

Coco nodded. “My papá used to sing to me,” she pulled away from Rafael to look at him. 

“What did he sing to you?” Rafael deliberately ignored the “ _ used to _ ”. Coco was upset enough, he didn’t want to open that can of worms. 

“Don’t you remember?”

“Err, have you already told me?” Rafael frowned, feeling guilty he might’ve forgotten something important she told him. 

Coco’s eyes trailed downwards crestfallen, and she didn’t answer. She leaned forward onto his chest again. 

Rafael hoped she couldn’t somehow absorb the panic and guilt he felt through touch. He opted to gently rubbing her back. He wasn’t sure if he should hum now or not. Clearly it had been the source of more distress.

“My friends were making fun of me,” Coco finally said. 

Rafael felt himself tense angrily, but he waited for her to continue. 

“Well, kinda,” Coco sighed. “I was talking about my papá and how I couldn’t wait for him to come home, and well… They started saying things like “It’s been years!” “He’s not coming!” “Grow up, he’s not coming back!” and I-,” her voice cracked, “They’re wrong! I  **know** they’re wrong.” 

Rafael felt his heart plummet as he heard this. If it had been years, then it wasn’t too out of question that-

“He wouldn’t leave me and Mamá,” Coco continued, “He only went to travel.”

Rafael found himself hugging Coco tightly. Unable or unwilling to explain to her exactly  **why** her father might not be coming back if it truly had been years since he left. 

**

Xōchipilli, dropped once again to his knees as the pain intensified. “Revert, Atzi,” he released her from her staff form. Isabela would need all the help she could get now that he was unable to even casually fight back. “No, Rafael isn’t stinging me…”

Atzi held her fingers at the ready, and sent out line after line towards the phantoms who were trying to sneak up on them from behind. “Is Rafa just too emotional a regalia?” she demanded. 

Xōchipilli groaned through gritted teeth, “It would seem so.” 

“What do we do?” Isabela asked, the number of phantoms were increasing drastically. They were all small, but there were now too many to handle. 

“We need to leave here now,” Atzi took the lead, “Get back to the heavenly realm where there are no phantoms.” 

“We must be attracting all the phantoms in the city,” Isabela grumbled. 

**

Coco hugged Rafael back, “I know that he’s just a little confused,” she kept talking. 

Rafael hugged her tighter, wishing she would stop and to keep himself from crying. What kind of a father would just  **leave** his family like this? Leave a girl as delightful as Coco?! She said he had gone to travel years ago, which meant she would have been young. What kind of a parent and partner would this man have been to just leave his wife with a young child like that?!

Coco was silent for a few moments. Then she spoke, her voice hardly louder than a whisper, “Do you remember?”

_ Remember what? _

Rafael couldn’t think of a single thing, nothing was ringing a bell, and yet… he couldn’t bring himself to say ‘no’ either. 

Maybe Coco had sensed that he was now upset, or maybe she just wanted to share the song with him, but it was her turn to hum. The song was familiar somehow, as if buried in a little folder at the very edges of Rafael’s mind, but he still didn’t recognize it. 

The song wasn’t particularly long, maybe a minute or so. When Coco finished she waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she asked hesitantly, “Did… Did you like it?” She pulled out of the hug, staring at him intently. 

Rafael nodded, “Was that the song he sang to you?” 

At his response, Coco almost looked disappointed, even a little betrayed. 

Before she could reply however, there was a distant woman’s voice, “Coco?” 

Both Rafael and Coco turned their heads. 

Rafael ruffled Coco’s hair, “You should go.” He told her. 

“Can you come with me?” She already seemed to be boiling up another plan. 

Rafael shook his head. He needed to sort out his feelings at the moment, “I need to go too.” 

Coco fidgeted with her wrist pensively as the woman, most likely her mother, called for her again. “You’ll come back right?” she asked him. 

Rafael smiled, “Claro,” he wanted now more than ever to come back to Santa Cecilia, if only to see how Coco was doing and support her if he could. 

Coco brightened at the prospect, gave him a brief farewell hug, and dashed off. Rafael watched her go, his heart feeling a lot heavier than it was supposed to. 

**

“Now!” Atzi ordered. 

Isabela dropped the line, while Atzi mustered the strongest line she possibly could to part the phantoms, and create a path. 

They each grabbed one of Xōchipilli’s arms, and the three of them ran through the parted phantoms. Every few seconds either Atzi or Isabela would fire out another line like a whip, either disintegrating the smaller phantoms, or pushing them out of the way. 

“Is it bad?” Isabela asked Xōchipilli as they slowed. 

“Let’s just get back home,” he answered, “and wait for Rafa to come back.”

As soon as they had teleported back to his temple, Xōchipilli could already feel the intensity of the emotions fading. Although something was still brewing in Rafael’s mind since they weren’t gone completely. 

“How do you feel?” Isabela asked. 

“Better,” Xōchipilli promised, but he was already dreading the talk he’d need to have with Rafael. 

No sooner had he thought of him, did Rafael suddenly appear the the temple’s entrance. Isabela and Atzi exchanged glances as he approached. Something was clearly on his mind. 

Xōchipilli waited for him to get closer before he spoke, “Rafael, come walk with me,” he requested, glancing out at the sky, promising rain. 

Rafael also noticed, “Uh, sure,” he started following Xōchipilli out the door of the temple, “This will be quick right?” 

Xōchipilli didn’t answer. He didn’t want to get rained on either but he didn’t want the risk of getting eavesdropped on a private conversation.

“Can we come?” Atzi asked for her and Isabela.

“Just Rafael,” Xōchipilli’s voice was unreadable. 

Atzi and Isabela exchanged concerned looks for Rafael. 

As Xōchipilli led Rafael around their grounds, Rafael waited patiently for the god to start speaking. The minutes began stretching and the sky rumbled. Xōchipilli paid it no heed. 

Rafael looked at the darkening sky uncertainly. He wasn’t sure whether it was darkening because of the clouds, or because night was falling, either way, it wasn’t exactly reassuring. Rafael made sure he stayed a few steps behind Xōchipilli, afraid he had somehow upset the god. 

Rain started trickling down. Xōchipilli stopped dead in his tracks, and stared up at the sky. 

Rafael paused in his steps, and waited. 

It wasn’t until the trickle became actual rain, that Xōchipilli turned and looked at Rafael. Still not saying anything, he reached over and gently took Rafael’s left wrist in his hand and looked at his name written across his forearm. 

Xōchipilli pressed his lips together, and traced Rafael’s “R”. Only now did Rafael notice that the top left corner of the R had some cracks in it. It was mostly unnoticeable, but in comparison to the other smooth letters, it definitely didn’t look like it was something that was supposed to be there. 

Finally, the deity spoke, “What happened?” he Xōchipilli looked at Rafael straight in the eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Rafael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He was starting to feel cold from the rain 

Xōchipilli let go of Rafael’s arms and sighed, “Regalia and gods are connected Rafa,” he explained, “If you do something bad, you hurt my body, if you feel something bad, you hurt my heart.” He told him, “Atzi, Bella and I were being attacked by phantoms and in the middle of that I doubled over and became a  dangerous burden to them. You were hurting, so I felt that tenfold.  **What happened** ?” he asked again. It was part of being a master, the risk that your own regalia would hurt you. After all, Xōchipilli had bound them with his own essence which connected them. A master got stung when a regalia did a bad thing such as lying or stealing. A master also carried the weight of their regalia's emotions. 

Rafael searched his memories, “Well, I think… Sí. There’s this little girl there, Coco. She told me her friends were making fun of her because her father wasn’t there and I… I don’t know, I felt angry that her father wasn’t there. I… Wanted to be there for her,” Rafael answered. 

Xōchipilli searched Rafael’s face, as if looking for any fallacies. His face saddened, “You like this little girl? Don’t you? Strong attachment to her.” 

Rafael nodded. 

Xōchipilli turned his back to Rafael, deep in thought. The rain was now pouring. Rafael and Xōchipilli were close enough to each other to hear each other, but anything else was drowned out by the rain’s pounding and occasional thunder. 

Xōchipilli had one hand tucked under his arm, and another stroking his chin. He seemed conflicted. Finally, what seemed after much contemplation, Xōchipilli’s shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh. “Rafa, do not go back to Santa Cecilia,” he turned around slowly, to face Rafael. 

“What?!” Rafael’s face fell, “What do you mean?!” 

Xōchipilli grasped Rafael’s shoulder, “I don’t want you to go back to Santa Cecilia,” he ordered. His tone was gentle, but made it clear this was not up to interpretation. 

Rafael felt panic rising in him. He didn’t want to disappear from Coco’s life! Her father was already gone! He shouldn’t be too! Rafael shook his head, “No, I have to go back! I-,” 

“ **Rafael** ,” Xōchipilli said forcibly. So forcibly that his named etched on his arm, glowed and floated in the air in front of him, effectively silencing him. 

Rafael still didn’t know much about the world of gods and regalias, but at that moment, he had never felt more exposed, his name felt exposed. If Xōchipilli wanted to, he could shatter Rafael’s name right then and there, and then Rafael would be no one. He would have nothing, not even an identity. His breath caught in his throat. 

“I am ordering you, Rafael,” Xōchipilli stared down at him, “you are  **not** to return to Santa Cecilia.” 

The two stared at each other. The rush of emotions slowly died, making Rafael’s name float back down to his arm. 

“Am I understood?” Xōchipilli asked. 

Rafael was now shivering from the rain and the shock, but he shook himself, “If this is because I got upset I can control myself! I can-,” 

“No,” Xōchipilli interrupted him. 

“But Coco-,” Rafael tried arguing further desperately. 

“Rafael,” Xōchipilli called him, now gently. He grabbed Rafael by both his shoulders, “I understand you care for her, and I’m sorry, I truly am. I wanted to let you enjoy Santa Cecilia, I really did…”

“Then why won’t you let me?” Rafael’s voice cracked. 

Xōchipilli felt his regalia’s anguish. He understood it, more than Rafael even. But… “Please Rafa,” he begged, “I know Santa Cecilia is special to you, but, not for my sake, but for yours, don’t go back to Santa Cecilia.” 

Rafael looked at Xōchipilli confused, and slightly betrayed. Finally, he nodded, defeated, and sighed glumly. 

Xōchipilli pulled away from him, “I’m sorry Rafa,” he insisted, “I truly am.” 

Rafael merely hugged himself, shivering from the cold and avoided looking at Xōchipilli. 

Xōchipilli knew he had broken the trust between himself and his newest regalia, and he regretted that it came to this. Hopefully, over time, it could be mended, but for now, “Let’s get out of this rain,” he suggested, attempting to guide Rafael back to the temple by putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Rafael pulled away, and started heading back, leaving Xōchipilli behind and never once making eye contact. 

Xōchipilli felt Rafael’s pain burning deep in his chest, and clutched at it before following him. 

Upon returning to the temple’s welcome warmth and light, Atzi was quick to nose around, “You two were out there a long time,” she stated, wanting a follow up. 

“Yes,” Xōchipilli agreed, “We’re soaked. I’m going to bathe and change clothes, then I’m going to bed,” he made it clear this was not her business, “I suggest Rafael do the same.” 

Rafael had already shut the door to his room. 

Isabela peered behind Xōchipilli curiously, “Something happen between you two?” she asked.


	7. Investigation Begins

Xōchipilli knocked on Rafael’s door. “Rafa, would you like to talk?” he asked. 

There was a stony silence. 

Xōchipilli clutched at his heart as he felt Rafael grow more upset at the mere sound of his voice. Xōchipilli decided not to push it and continued down the hall. Isabela was reading a book in her room and Atzi was off who knows where, probably doing another patrol before she would tuck in for the night. 

Xōchipilli plopped down on the sofa in the living room tiredly. What was he going to do? It’d been three days where Rafael refused to talk to him, all the while causing him emotional turmoil and even the occasional stinging. Stricter gods would release regalia who stung them, revoke their names. Xōchipilli had never had the heart to do it, much less now of all times.

According to Isabela, Rafael was feeling guilty about the broken promise, hence all the stinging. 

Xōchipilli wanted to take it back, but it was too big a risk. 

And then of course there were all the other problems he still had to solve. He still only had exactly three regalia, a walking stick, a pencil and a guitar. Hardly what could be considered a safe arsenal. Not that he was very good at defending himself in the first place… Still, more regalia would be good. Xōchipilli once had around fifteen to twenty regalia. Nothing compared to how many regalias other gods could have, but it was definitely much more than he had now. Honestly, even just getting up to five or seven regalia would appease him. 

Xolotl was still out there too, but that was a problem Xōchipilli could not touch. He was far from a war god, no… Xōchipilli was quite the opposite of a war god. But it felt frustrating. 

How many of the gods were left? So many of them were disappearing and not reincarnating. Xōchipilli wondered how was it exactly that they all still existed in a way. Gods were born from wishes, and when the wishes stopped coming, the gods stopped existing. Perhaps their legacies were strong enough to permit existence but not reincarnation. However, Xōchipilli had heard tales of the more obscure gods vanishing, and he himself wasn’t exactly the most famous of the gods. 

Xōchipilli shook his head. No point on dwelling on things he could do nothing about. So then… what  **was** something he could do? He rested his head on his knuckles, gazing across the room pensively. 

Well… There was always Rafael’s death. 

Xōchipilli frowned. His death was too sudden.  **That’s** what puzzled him. How could a person seemingly drop dead without any prior warning? Had there been a phantom involved or… maybe even another god? He had been tied to the near shore then… He wouldn’t have seen phantoms, gods or regalias if there had been any.

Xōchipilli stood and headed towards the door. Rafael died six years ago. Chances that he could still find traces and evidence of what happened that night were next to none. Still, he had a feeling this would eat at him if he didn’t explore it further. 

In a flash, Xōchipilli was now in Mexico city. He knew Atzi would get nervous if she didn’t find him when she got home, but he wouldn’t take long. 

As he walked in the night, he couldn’t help but appreciate the lights of shops shining onto the cobblestone. It only would’ve been prettier if the cobblestone was wet. Xōchipilli took a moment to capture the image in his mind. He just had to draw this later when he got the chance. 

Once finished looking, he continued on, finding the street where Héctor had died. It wasn’t so late at night that nobody was out, but the foot traffic was dwindling. Not that it mattered. 

Xōchipilli found the spot where Héctor kneeled over and died. He crouched and examined the ground, touching it with his hand. He pressed his lips together. 

“Pilli, is that you?” came a voice. 

Xōchipilli looked up and saw a beautiful young woman, “Qiqi!” he smiled and greeted Xōchiquetzal. The two hugged. None of the gods really knew if the familial relations assigned to them by the humans were real or not but Xōchipilli and Xōchiquetzal always enjoyed playing up their “sibling” relationship. 

Xōchiquetzal pulled out of the hug and studied Xōchipilli, “I thought you were dead! I thought Xolotl got you!” she fretted. 

Xōchipilli sighed, “Almost,” he agreed, “Luckily Atzi managed to survive the attack and well… She’s the reason I’m still here.” 

Xōchiquetzal hugged him again. Then when she pulled out a second time she gave him a slap, “Next time you survive an attack like that YOU WRITE TO ME!” she scolded him. 

Xōchipilli blinked, “First you hug me then you slap me?!” 

Xōchiquetzal crossed her arms, “Details.”

Xōchipilli rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. It’d been a long while since he’d seen Xōchiquetzal. 

“So what were you looking at just now?” Xōchiquetzal asked. 

“My newest regalia had a strange death,” Xōchipilli told her, “I came here to see if I could learn something but alas, it was still six years ago.” 

“Must be really rattling you if you’ve come all the way down here unarmed,” Xōchiquetzal noted. 

Xōchipilli’s shoulders sagged, “I don’t know. One moment he was fine and the next he just dropped dead.”

“Huh…” She gazed down at the cobblestone too. 

Xōchipilli wanted to tell her more but he found himself at a loss. He barely even knew what to say about it, let alone how to even begin. 

“Pilli, I can help you investigate if you’d like,” she offered. 

Xōchipilli looked at her and she tilted her head. He smiled, “Thank you Qiqi, I just might take you up on that.” 

She smiled at him in return.

“So then, Qiqi, what brings you to the lower realm?” 

Xōchiquetzal sighed, “One of my regalia is mad at me, thought I’d come and get her something she likes.” 

“What happened?” 

Xōchiquetzal shrugged, “Oh, you know how they are sometimes. At least the younger ones. Older regalia are a lot more mellow, but the younger ones are always changing, always in states of discovery rather than knowledge. They want to, how do you say, be their own person, but need to answer to their master unconditionally.” 

Xōchipilli tilted his head. Of course it depended on personality, but on average it was true enough. The younger the regalia, the more problems you were likely to have, though the reason varied from age to age. 

“My newest regalia is upset with me too,” Xōchipilli revealed. 

“What happened with you?” 

Xōchipilli winced as he felt Rafael battle a new wave of sadness back at home. Then he turned to Xōchiquetzal, “I needed to protect him from something but that didn’t fly over well because as far as he’s concerned, I'm just not letting him do something he would love to do.” 

“Can’t you explain it to him?”

“Not without revealing a god’s greatest secret.”

Xōchiquetzal patted his shoulder, “That’s rough.” The two stood there in silence for a moment when Xōchiquetzal continued, “Send me a letter explaining to me what’s going on with your regalia’s death, and I’ll sniff around. If I find something, I’ll tell you,” she offered. 

Xōchipilli nodded, “I should probably get going.” He glanced up at the moon. 

The two hugged once last time. “See you around,” Xōchiquetzal bid him farewell. 

 Xōchipilli’s gaze rested on the cobblestone one last time before he left for home. 

He arrived at the temple right as Atzi was nearing the entrance. She frowned in surprise. 

“Were you just out?” 

“Yes, I was Atzi,” They both headed back to the temple together. 

“You went out alone?!” She demanded. 

Xōchipilli glanced at her, flinching at her annoyed gaze, “It was fine.” 

“What were you doing?”

“Just doing some investigating on our newest member’s death,” Xōchipilli told her, “Bumped into Xōchiquetzal while I was there.”

“Just take me with you next time,” Atzi crossed her arms, then after a moment, she tilted her head, “How is Qiqi?” 

“She seems well,” Xōchipilli paused as they entered the temple and it seemed that Rafael and Isabela were chatting in the living room. 

Xōchipilli couldn’t help but clutch at his chest as Rafael entered a new wave of sadness. Atzi was quick to notice.

“I’m going to tell Rafa to knock it off.”

Xōchipilli grabbed her shoulder, “Atzi, I promise you, forcing regalia to choke down their own emotions is only worse in the long run. Leave him alone.”

“But he’s hurting you.”

“It’s not like you’ve never done that accidentally too.”

Atzi fell silent.

Xōchipilli straightened and gazed back at Rafael and Isabela right as Bella placed a comforting hand on his arm while he very visably groaned, “It’s fine Atzi. It is through the pain of our regalia that gods learn what it is to be human.”

“I guess…” Atzi grumbled. She looked at Rafael and Isabela too. 

Isabela had sprung to her feet and was excitedly telling Rafael an idea she just had. Rafael’s eyes still looked sad, but at least she prompted a smile out of him. 

“Did you find anything about his death?” Atzi asked after a moment of silence. 

Xōchipilli shook his head. 

“Why don’t we both go tomorrow,” Atzi offered, “I could help.”

Normally Xōchipilli might’ve declined a regalia offering help in such a matter. However, he knew there wouldn’t be a problem with Atzi, at least not in the way there would be a problem with other regalia. 

“We’ll leave after lunch,” he decided. 


	8. Something Foul is Afoot

Xōchipilli sat on the ground waiting for Atzi at the entrance of the temple grounds. She was taking a while… He wished they would have left nearly half an hour ago, and yet he waited. It’s not like it mattered when they went down to Mexico City to investigate, it really made no difference, but this was all he had been able to think about all night and all morning. 

Finally, Atzi appeared. Xōchipilli stood.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “Bella kept trying to come with me.” 

“Ah,” he understood. This really wasn’t something regalia should be involving themselves with after all. Atzi was the miraculous exception, but on average…? “And how did you get her to stay?”

Atzi straightened smiling smugly, “I told her to make sure Rafa had his borderline down and that that one time hadn’t just been an accident.” 

Xōchipilli smiled, “That’s a good idea.” 

“Shall we go?” Atzi asked. 

Xōchipilli nodded, and with a flick of the hand, they both flashed into Mexico City. “Last night I went to where Héctor died.”

“Is that his real name?” Atzi asked. After Xōchipilli nodded, she asked something else, “Okay, so did you find anything there?”

“I’m afraid not,” his shoulders sagged, “Just cobblestone looking like cobblestone.” 

“Hmm,” Atzi thought for a minute, “Where was he before he died?” 

“He was staying at a hotel with his friend.” 

“He didn’t live here?” Atzi turned to him surprised. 

“No, he was traveling as a mariachi at the time. Are you thinking we should start at the hotel?” Xōchipilli asked her. 

Atzi nodded, “Yes, and then look around.” 

“This way,” Xōchipilli led them through the streets. As they walked, he couldn’t help but review the final memories again. All Héctor had wanted was to go home. Xōchipilli tried giving that to him, but it became clear that allowing Rafael continued access to Santa Cecilia would be dangerous for him. 

Xōchipilli didn’t like his decision to ban Rafael from Santa Cecilia, since it’s all he wanted but… Xōchipilli gave himself a shake. Now was not the time to think about that. 

“Here,” they had arrived at the hotel and entered. “Can you grab the keys to the room?” Xōchipilli asked Atzi as they both walked into the lobby. “Room twenty-three.” 

Atzi walked behind the counter to look for the key. The receptionist remained blissfully oblivious to their presence. Xōchipilli had once had a regalia that couldn’t stand being next to invisible to the living. He ended up revoking their name and releasing them due to continuous stinging. 

“Got it!” Atzi waved a key around, “It’s a spare so that means people are staying there.” 

Xōchipilli took the key from her, “It’ll be fine,” he promised, “At most they’ll be weirded out by the door randomly opening.” 

After a quick turn of the key and a click, Xōchipilli walked into the hotel room. The people who were staying there took no notice of him, as was typical. They weren’t technically invisible but being hard to notice sure did have its perks at times. 

“This is where he stayed with his friend?” Atzi asked, exploring the room with her eyes.

Xōchipilli nodded, “They’ve changed a few things since he was last here, but yes.” 

Atzi looked around, “And you think that maybe this hotel room might contain clues to his strange death?” Atzi mocked him, “Why are you so interested in how he died anyways? You usually don’t involve yourself with your regalias past lives. Just in general, gods don’t do that.”

Xōchipilli stroked his chin, looking at the table where Ernesto and Héctor had left personal items while they had been here. Xōchipilli shook his head, “It’s strange, it leaves me unsettled. One moment he was fine, the next moment any minor discomfort suddenly spiraled out of control and he dropped dead.”

“Hmm,” Atzi pursed her lips, “Was it food poisoning?” she asked. 

Xōchipilli thought back, “No, I don’t think so. I’ve had regalia that died from that before. This was different.”

“Walk me through his final moments then,” Atzi requested. 

Xōchipilli nodded, “He had a quick farewell toast with Ernesto, then they headed towards the train station. He didn’t make it.”

Atzi thought about it, “Why don’t we retrace his steps, and we’ll stop at the place where he died.”

Xōchipilli led the way, taking care to match the pace that Héctor would have taken while carrying a suitcase full of clothes and a guitar, and even included dropping off the room key at the front. 

The train station wasn’t terribly far, but he and Atzi definitely had to take a few turns to get there. Once the train was in sight, Xōchipilli had started calculating carefully his steps. It had been dark at the time, so many things looked different now in the day. While he could to some degree, use their distance to the train to judge where it was that Héctor dropped, it wasn’t accurate. 

Xōchipilli paused, and glanced around, finding the lampposts. “Here,” he turned to Atzi, “This is as far as he got.”

“That was about a fifteen minute walk,” she noted. Atzi turned back to calculate their distance. Xōchipilli could almost see the gears in her mind churning and spinning. 

After several moments, she finally spoke, “Do you know any poisons that can kill a person that fast?” she asked him. 

Xōchipilli frowned, “When would he have ingested a poison?” 

Atzi turned to him, “The toast, at the hotel.”

Xōchipilli thought about this, “But his friend didn’t die.” 

Atzi’s face darkened, “Then maybe he was the one who put it there. Were there any fights or disagreements beforehand?" 

Xōchipilli stared at the cobblestone. It had been the last thing Héctor saw. It was a… troubling idea Atzi had just proposed, not one he was willing to agree with or consider. Especially since Héctor remembered Ernesto so fondly. And yet… It wasn’t completely impossible. They did indeed have a disagreement before Héctor left. Actually, the past few weeks had been rickety between them now that he thought about it. 

Something inside of him squirmed uncomfortably. “I hope you’re wrong Atzi…” Xōchipilli admitted. 

Atzi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, “Why?”

“That wasn’t just any friend. They grew up together,” Xōchipilli told her. 

Atzi stared a the ground herself, but her hard gaze remained, “It was just an idea,” although, by her tone of voice, Xōchipilli could feel that she still believed what she had said. 

Xōchipilli eyed a guitar being handsomely displayed in a store’s window. It was just a standard brown guitar, nowhere near as beautiful as the white one Héctor used to have. 

Xōchipilli let out a sigh, “It’s hard to investigate further when all of this happened years ago.” 

Atzi was also thinking hard, “What if we found this Ernesto? He might know more right?” 

Xōchipilli beckoned for her to follow him into the shop, “I’m not sure how we would find him, but that indeed might be what we must do if we want to find out more,” he agreed. 

“What are you doing?” Atzi raised an eyebrow at Xōchipilli as he picked up a guitar and felt its strings and frets. 

“Rafael needs an instrument,” Xōchipilli pulled out some money, thinking about what Qiqi said last night about buying a gift for a regalia that was mad at her.

***

Rafael was nowhere to be found within the temple, likewise with Isabela. Xōchipilli headed to the yard in the front. Just as he suspected, the two had drifted from borderline training to chasing each other around with buckets of water. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. It had been good to bring Rafael on board after all. Atzi still wasn’t herself, and Xōchipilli could tell that she had been getting irritated with the thirteen-year old Isabela. But Rafael had more than enough energy and playfulness to keep up with her. The perfect middle ground between himself and Atzi against the younger regalia. 

Xōchipilli carefully set the guitar case down behind him, and propped it up carefully against himself, hiding it from view. 

He cleared his throat, hoping to catch their attention. Rafael froze and turned to look at him. Isabela however threw one last bucket of water on him before stopping herself. Rafael flinched and shot her an amused,  _ I’ll-get-you-for-that-later! _ Glare.

Xōchipilli smiled, “Is this some new form of training?” he asked. 

Isabela hugged her bucket, “Well we  **were** supposed to be practicing borderlines, and I thought it’d be fun to throw a cup of water at the other as an incentive to draw the line fast enough.” 

At that comment, Rafael smirked mischievously and averted his gaze to the clouds. 

“But  **someone** ,” Bella elbowed Rafael, who oofed, “decided he’d rather use a bucket instead and well, it kind of went downhill from there,” Bella admitted. The glint in her eyes suggested that neither she nor Rafael regretted the water fight, but they couldn’t have been more wet if they had jumped into the pond itself. 

Xōchipilli suppressed a laugh, “Why don’t you go dry yourself off then Bella?” he suggested. 

Isabela and Rafael exchanged glances, “Uh sure,” she left, leaving Rafael and Xōchipilli alone. 

Rafael looked up at Xōchipilli awkwardly. 

Xōchipilli let out a sigh, “I would like to apologize for the whole Santa Cecilia thing,” he told him. 

Rafael brightened a little, “Does that mean I can go back?” he asked hopefully. 

Xōchipilli averted his gaze, “Erm, uh no… I’m sorry. I can’t risk that.” 

Rafael scowled and looked away angrily. 

“But, I thought this could make up for it a little bit,” Xōchipilli unveiled the guitar. 

Rafael openly gaped as he was handed the guitar case, and knelt down to open it. Xōchipilli felt Rafael’s giddy excitement as he opened the case and ran his hand over the smooth wood. 

“I know it’s not very fancy but…” Xōchipilli scratched the back of his head nervously as Rafael pulled the guitar out and into his arms. 

Rafael either seemed not to have heard him, or not to have cared. With a little wiggle of the fingers, he danced out a melody on the strings with a smile on his lips. After a moment of playing different melodies, Rafael slowed to a stop.

Sighing, he looked up at Xōchipilli, “Can I at least send her a letter? Explaining to her that I won’t be going back?” 

Xōchipilli tilted his head. After a moment's thought, he nodded and then promised, “I’ll deliver it myself.”

___

Xolotl studied his map of the heavenly realm by the moonlight. All of his regalia were sleeping. He didn’t understand why he had to attack Xōchipilli of all gods, but still, it had been done. 

He sighed and crossed Xōchipilli’s temple off the map. 

A black jaguar rumbled in amusement as he watched Xolotl.

Xolotl glared at the regalia, “And what are  **you** laughing at Raul?” he met the jaguar’s glowing eyes evenly. Xolotl was a god. He shouldn’t fear regalia. Regalia were servants to gods.

“I think Raul is excited to see where I send you next,” a figure emerged from the shadows. 

Xolotl stood up alarmed, “Oh! Uh, you’ve already picked a new target?” he asked the other god nervously. 

The other god strode over to Raul, and stroked the jaguar’s head. “Of course I have. Quetzalcoatl was a no show! The coward!” the god hissed through his teeth. 

Xolotl twiddled with his thumbs before asking meekly, “Did we really have to take out Xōchipilli? He’s one of the few peaceful ones left… I thought we were-,”

“We need to weaken Quetzalcoatl!” the other god interrupted angrily, “That includes his allies! Even if he didn’t show up to defend his friend, the loss of an ally will only work in our favor.”

Xolotl looked down uncomfortably, but said nothing in respects to that. “How did you know Quetzalcoatl didn’t come?”

The other god tilted his head, “Well for one, you still have all of your regalia in one piece,” he gestured to the sleeping figures. 

Xolotl scowled, “All this so that  **your own** regalia will be safe?” 

The other god scoffed, “Of course not.” The other god approached Xolotl and draped an arm around him, “I’m lending you Raul aren’t I? And with him at your side, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Isn’t that right Raul?”

The jaguar tilted his head and smirked, “That’s right,  **Dog** ,” he sneered at Xolotl, “I made quick work of Xōchipilli’s regalia haven’t I? Like always.”

Xolotl flinched.

“Please Raul,” the other god scolded, “You’re in the presence of two gods, be respectful.”

The jaguar regalia merely rolled his eyes, “Maybe if you’d revert me every once in a while.”  

“Anyways,” the other god continued, “We are to continue with the plan, understood?” 

Xolotl’s shoulders sagged as he sighed in agreement. 

“I’m sure you already know who’s next. It is most tragic for twins to be separated, you should go unite them.”


	9. Letter Delivery

The four of them were lazing around in the living room. Rafael was strumming out a melody, and absent-mindedly scribbling it down in a blank journal he had found in the temple. After a few scribbles, he would go back to thumbing out melodies and chords. 

Xōchipilli had half a mind to order the regalia to stop since what he was playing was sounding far too close to Remember Me to his liking. His eyes briefly darted to where Rafael’s name was written on his arm. Xōchipilli was too far away from it to take in the smaller details, but he knew that the crack on the “R” was still there. Part of him wondered if it had gotten bigger. 

Giving himself a shake to nag off the worry, Xōchipilli refocused on the letter he was writing. While he and Rafa were at least on friendlier terms now, there was still some tension, and it’d be foolish of Xōchipilli to test it further. 

“Are you done yet?” asked Bella. She was currently transformed as the pencil he was using to write the letter. 

“Almost, got a little lost in thought,” Xōchipilli answered her. 

True, Xōchipilli could have used a normal pencil to write this letter to Qiqi, but then he wouldn’t be able to channel his power, which would do a disservice to Qiqi. She deserved to know everything if she was going to help him with his investigation. 

Atzi stood up and stretched from the couch after putting her book down. After she brought her arms back down, she gazed around the room. “We still haven’t found more regalia,” she lamented. 

Rafael thumbed his way through a chord, “Where did you guys find me again?” 

“Mexico City,” Xōchipilli answered, finally finishing up his letter. “Why?  **Revert** Isabela.” In a flash of light, the pencil he had been using now transformed into a girl. Bella promptly stretched and yawned. 

“Well I was thinking, if I was there, wouldn’t there be others?” Rafael strummed one more chord before stopping, even slapping his hands against the strings to stop with the vibration. 

“There’s no need,” Atzi interjected crossing her arms, “Pilli and I were there yesterday.”

Rafael and Isabela exchanged glances, “Really? Were you looking for regalia?” 

Xōchipilli stood, “Err no, which means your point still holds validity. We should go to Mexico City sometime soon to look.” 

Rafael frowned, “If you weren’t there to look for regalia, what were you doing?” 

Xōchipilli felt Atzi’s nervous eyes fall on him. He, however, stayed relaxed, “We were getting your guitar.” 

Rafael seemed appeased with that answer, because he replied with a short riff on the guitar while smiling. 

“Enough talk then,” Atzi inturrupted, “Let’s go to Mexico City.” She said that just as Isabela threw herself onto the couch dramatically. 

“Aww Atzi nooo,” Bella whined, “I want to relax and listen to Rafa play!”

Atzi crossed her arms, “Xōchipilli’s safety takes precedence.” 

Xōchipilli placed a hand on her shoulder, “Rest for today,” he agreed with Bella.

Atzi’s mouth gaped, “But Pilli-!”

Xōchipilli shook his head, “It wouldn’t really make a difference. I’ve got some letters to deliver so it’s not like I could come with you and name any lost spirits.” He held up the letter he just wrote for Qiqi as well as the one Rafael wrote for a certain someone in Santa Cecilia. 

“You’re doing that now?” Rafael perked up, “Can I come?” 

“No.”

Rafael scowled. 

Atzi remained unsettled, “Qiqi’s temple is far away,” she muttered. “If you’re going to be walking that much shouldn’t you at least take me?!” 

Xōchipilli tucked the letters into a pocket, “Atzi, I’m not going on a hike or a nature walk. I don’t need a walking stick.”

“ **Staff** ,” she pursed her lips. 

Xōchipilli shifted his weight uncomfortably, “Yes, well... that. I don’t need it. I’ll be back in a few hours,” he waved farewell and left.

Isabela frowned and looked at Rafael who had taken to crossing his arms, pouting and glaring across the room. 

She smirked at him, “What’s got you all up in a knot?”

“I am going to come up with the most annoying song ever and burst into Pilli’s room when he’s sleeping AND PLAY IT!” Rafael immediately dove back into song making, muttering furiously, “He’s never going to get it out of his head…” among other things.

___

_ “Es loca,” Julio shrugged.  _

_ “Yeah Coco,” Rosita agreed, “You probably dreamed that.” _

Coco finished brushing her hair in her room. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Julio and Rosita had said. It’d been a couple days since she’d seen her papá and she had gotten worried. 

She thought to ask them about “Tio Rafa” as he had been going by even though that was  **not** his real name! 

All she got in response were blank and confused stares. Coco tried elaborating, saying how they had had fun times together but she found even herself drawing a blank on what exactly it was that they did. She could only vaguely remember that Papá had definitely been there. 

Simply put, they didn’t remember him. 

Coco set her brush down on the bedside table and leaned against the window sill. It… it was strange. The memories were fuzzy for her. Even memories of her papá when she had been little were far clearer than the ones from last week. She couldn’t understand it. 

She pulled out the torn corner from the family photo from her drawer and she stared hard at his face, tracing fingers over his cheeks. 

Coco  **knew** what he looked like! And she  **knew** that “Tio Rafa”, or whatever he had called himself, had looked like that. And yet… the man’s face was so blurry now in her memory he could’ve been anyone. 

Maybe she was deluding herself. 

Coco sighed and rested her chin on the window sill. 

After all, he hadn’t recognized her and his name hadn’t been Héctor… Maybe she really was making all of this up. Maybe she just wanted him back so badly that she was just trying to force anyone who reminded her of him to actually be him. 

She had thought he had maybe been confused or maybe even playing a game or…

The door to her room creaked open. 

“Mamá?” Coco turned around. Stealthily hiding the photo corner behind her. Only… there was nobody there? 

_ That’s weird _ … Coco tilted her head looking at the door. That’s when she noticed there was something new on her bed, a letter. Coco tucked the photo corner away safely back into the drawer before hopping onto her bed and grabbing the letter. 

She flipped it around, looking for any clues on where it might have come from. All that was written on it was “ _ To Coco _ ” in a very familiar handwriting…

There were footsteps down the hall. In a panic, Coco tucked the letter into her drawer too, right as her mother walked into the room. 

“Coco,” she called out, “Time for bed míja.” 

Coco climbed into bed as her mother closed the windows. 

“Mamá?” she asked. 

“Sí?” 

Coco knew better than to mention Papá around Mamá, so as far as Imelda knew, the trio of friends had merely befriended this older adult. But now… “Do you remember that Julio, Rosita and I made a new friend?” 

“Julio called him Tio Rafa right?”

Coco nodded, “Well um… He looked a lot like Papá.” 

Imelda stiffened.  

Coco wasn’t sure where she wanted to go with this. She had just wanted to talk about it to somebody, but now that she had started, she wasn’t even sure what exactly she wanted to talk about. 

“I…” her voice faltered, “Nevermind.”

Imelda pressed her lips together and sighed, “Alright, goodnight Míja,” she kissed her daughter, “Don’t forget that tomorrow I’m leaving early to Mexico City to meet up with Ceci.”

“I won’t.”

“Be good to your tios alright?” Imelda left the room and closed the door. 

Coco turned in her bed. Part of her was scared of falling asleep. With each night that passed, the memory of “Tio Rafa” got fuzzier and fuzzier. What if she forgot him? Would he be sad? 

*

Xōchipilli stood off to the side as Imelda walked into the room. As long as he remained quiet, and didn’t forcibly interact with them such as directly addressing them, or asking them a question, they shouldn’t notice him. 

He turned to leave but he hesitated after hearing what Coco said. 

Xōchipilli gave himself a shake and left before he could hear the rest of the exchange. Next stop was Qiqi’s temple. 

While leaving the house he caught Oscar and Félipe in the hall, listening in on the mother and daughter. Xōchipilli wasn’t really paying too much attention to what anyone was saying, but he froze at their words.

“Never took Héctor to be the type to just run off.”

The other brother shook his head, “I still think something must have happened. Coco agrees with me.”

“Just don’t say that to Imelda, she doesn’t want to hear it…”

Xōchipilli frowned and stared at them. Did… did they not know Héctor was dead? That was odd… Why wouldn’t they know? It’s not as if Héctor had died alone and isolated. 

He shook off the thoughts and left the home.  _First finish delivering the letter to Qiqi, then worry about affairs of the near-shore._

As he walked through Santa Cecilia to find a suitable teleportation spot, he couldn’t help but think back on his decision to ban Rafael from here. He regretted that it came to that. He wished he could have given Rafael Santa Cecilia, especially after visiting the family he left behind. 

His shoulders sagged. If only regalia weren’t so fragile when it came to their pasts.

Xōchipilli shook himself and teleported back into the heavenly realm at the entrance of his temple. Unlike the lower realm, it was still day here. 

He himself had never understood it exactly, why that time flowed differently in the heavens than it did in the lower realm. Sometimes they matched, sometimes the lower realm moved faster, sometimes it moved slower. 

Xōchipilli walked along the path to Qiqi’s temple. 

It had indeed been a while since he’d visited her. Xōchipilli used to visit other gods quite frequently, but Qiqi especially. 

Sadly, since the gods became more turbulent these visits dwindled to a stop. You never knew if you would cross one of the violent gods seeking to absorb your essence into theirs to keep from fading away, or just a god that had gone crazy. Either way, the place that had once been a safe haven for the gods became just as dangerous as the lower realms. 

The sounds of battling gods slowly dwindled over time and left an eerie silence in the heavens. Xōchipilli didn’t know which was worse, the sounds of gods fighting each other or the silence from absent gods who had either faded, perished or been killed by Xolotl. 

Actually, now that Xōchipilli thought about it, hadn’t most gods who perished been killed by him? 

Then again, it wasn’t that big of a surprise was it? With that regalia of his that somehow knew a god’s greatest secret, another god’s regalia would be corrupted in seconds and turn into a phantom. Usually, the mere knowledge that the secret existed would often be enough to corrupt a regalia, let alone knowing what that secret contained. And Xolotl's regalia most certainly knew the secret and weaponized it.

Xōchipilli shuddered at his memories of when Xolotl had attacked him. 

There was no saving a regalia who had turned into a phantom. They would become corrupted, and mind poisoned. Existence for corrupted regalia was that of a living hell. The only way to deal with phantom turned regalia was to slay them. Make it so that they would cause no more harm and so that their suffering ended. 

And that’s what had happened to Xōchipilli and Atzi. One by one, Xolotl used that strange regalia of his to corrupt all of Xōchipilli’s regalia. All except Atzi, who then had no choice but to use her borderline to slay the regalia who had once stood by her side, been her friends and her family. All to protect him. 

Since regalia affected their masters bodies, Xōchipilli had been overcome with blight. A single regalia turning into a phantom could kill a master if nothing was done, that is if the phantom didn’t just eat the god. Xōchipilli of course had been dealing with nearly all of his regalia turning into phantom's simultaneously. Atzi had been frantic.

Xōchipilli still felt guilty about the position this forced Atzi to be in. It had been a lose-lose situation no matter how you looked at it. And she still felt guilty about the aftermath. A god imbued a spirit with their own essence. So when that spirit died, so did too a part of the god. It left a gaping hole on top of the pain of losing a family member. And Atzi had been forced to slay all the others. She knew she had brought Xōchipilli pain even though it had been to save him. 

She had once been a gentle and caring spirit. Merely wanting to make sure everyone was happy and feeling loved. Now Xōchipilli had to watch her patrol multiple times a day, relentlessly remind and enforce that they needed more regalia for safety, and he had yet to see her smile since the attack. Nor had he seen her do the embroidery she so used to love. 

An alarm broke him out of his thoughts as he approached Xōchiquetzal’s temple. 

He paused in his steps wary. 

Within seconds a handful of regalia had surrounded him, hands poised for borderlines. 

“Oh it’s just Xōchipilli,” one of them said to the others. The others relaxed while the first one turned and yelled back, “FALSE ALARM!!” 

Xōchipilli couldn’t help but smile as he shook his head. A regalia approached him, a young boy. “I thought you had been killed! Qiqi was devastated!” 

“For what it’s worth, I thought I was dead too,” Xōchipilli tried joking, but it didn’t fall well to the regalia who all glared at him. 

“That’s not funny!” one of them accused.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Xōchipilli apologized. 

“Pilli! Glad you’re here!” Xōchiquetzal approached and pulled him into a hug.

“You’ve got quite the offensive warning system Qiqi,” Xōchipilli commented. It was almost an accusation. 

“Started doing it after Tlaloc was reported dead,” she admitted, “Can’t be too careful anymore. Shall we walk?” she gestured to her grounds. 

Xōchipilli nodded in agreement, and then waved his letter around, “That would be perfect.” 

Xōchiquetzal gestured for him to follow, then nodded to her regalia, “We’re not to be disturbed,” she ordered. 

As they walked through her grounds, Xōchipilli couldn’t help but admire her fashion. Xōchiquetzal was always beautiful, it was just who she was. Today she was especially radiant wearing a yellow dress and sporting and elegant braid down her back. 

Finally, they had reached a place that was secluded enough from the others. Xōchipilli handed her the letter. 

Xōchiquetzal opened it and her eyes flashed as she was enveloped by Xōchipilli’s power. 

This would only take a minute or two in real time, but for Xōchiquetzal she was reliving the last few hours of Héctor’s life as if she were really there. When Xōchipilli used a regalia to write or to draw, what he created would often have special effects of their own. 

If he were describing a story, then the effect was that whoever laid eyes on it would experience it firsthand. This was why he had chosen to write the letter with Bella instead of any pencil. It wouldn’t work otherwise.

Xōchiquetzal tucked the letter under her arm and sat down on a rock, thinking hard. 

Xōchipilli sat down next to her, “What are your thoughts?”

“Strange indeed,” she agreed. 

“Atzi suspects foul play,” Xōchipilli added. Might as well tell Xōchiquetzal everything that’s been done so far in respect to the investigation. “Personally, I’m hoping she’s wrong, Ernesto was such a dear friend.” 

Xōchiquetzal turned on him, “You’re involving a regalia in on this?? Are you crazy?!” she hissed at him. 

Xōchipilli held up his hands in defense, “Atzi was… surprisingly able to handle a god’s greatest secret. That’s how I survived Xolotl after all.”

“Is that how he does it?” Xōchiquetzal asked. 

“I’d rather not talk about it…” he squirmed, turning his eyes to look elsewhere. “Anyways, Atzi doesn’t like letting me out of her sight lately, and since she already knows about it I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have her tag along to help. She’s intelligent, and I’ve had her a very long time.”

Xōchiquetzal stood up and paced. “We will talk about Xolotl some other time,” she pointed accusingly at Xōchipilli, “but for now…” she sighed, “What sort of foul play did Atzi suggest? That Ernesto poisoned his best friend?”

Xōchipilli nodded grimly. 

Xōchiquetzal paced some more. “Well it is very suspicious don’t you agree? We can only know more by finding Ernesto and asking him.”

Xōchipilli scoffed at that idea, “As if he would openly say anything incriminating.”

Xōchiquetzal grasped one off Xōchipilli’s shoulders, “Even if he’s not the reason why Héctor died, he was there during his last moments. And you can only report as far as until the moment Héctor lost consciousness. More things may have happened afterwards, and we only know of one person who was there.”

Xōchipilli glanced down for a moment, then looked back up at her, “And if he  **is** the reason Héctor died?”

Xōchiquetzal’s expression darkened, “Let’s hope he isn’t but if he is, I suspect he’ll change the story somehow. We know what really happened, he doesn’t know that we know. We’ll know if he’s lying.”

“Which would be plenty incriminating,” Xōchipilli sighed. He wouldn’t have a reason to lie otherwise.

“The problem is,” Xōchiquetzal sat down on Xōchipilli’s knees, “how do we find Ernesto?”

“The problem is that you are going to be covered in dirt in three… two… one,” Xōchipilli shoved her off his lap. 

“Hey!” she turned and glared at him, but the look in her eyes were playful. 

“I don’t even know where to start looking for Ernesto,” Xōchipilli admitted, “They didn’t live in Mexico City, and Ernesto is not in Santa Cecilia anymore.”

Xōchiquetzal stood up and patted the dirt out of her dress, “Tell you what, we’ll both look around for clues, and if we can’t find anything for a while, you and I will go back to Mexico City to look for ourselves. Surely he must have left some sort of trail. Even if it was six years ago.”

Xōchipilli nodded in agreement, “Me and my regalia are going there tomorrow, if I find anything I’ll let you know.”

Xōchiquetzal stood and offered him a hand to help stand, “I’ll see you do the door.” Right as he took her hand, she also shoved him to the ground. “Now we’re even,” she smirked at him. 

Xōchipilli merely rolled his eyes and smiled.


	10. New Encounter

_“Amiga!!! Come on, you_ ** _know_** _you can stay with me!”_ Imelda could already hear Ceci’s scolding. Still, it didn’t matter. Imelda finished settling into the hotel room, and remembered to grab her bag, the room key aaand a map of Mexico City. 

Ever since they were girls, she and Ceci always said that once they were adults they would be business partners. 

Her family moved to Mexico City a few years ago due to other members needing help and they ended up staying. Ceci had officially opened shop. But as they had promised each other, Ceci found a way to tie in Imelda’s shoe business to hers and now they were having their monthly meeting.

There was only one problem… Ceci had changed shop locations and Imelda was feeling rather lost… 

Imelda knew that Ceci wanted her to stay with her whenever Imelda came to visit but… Imelda prefered staying at hotels. Ceci’s family got on her nerves a lot of the time. Most recently, by trying to set her up with someone new.

Mumbling irritably to herself, Imelda looked down at her map again. Where exactly was Ceci’s new shop again? Why couldn’t she have stayed at the same place? Grumbling, she turned the corner, distracted by the map, her foot caught on a loose brick from the cobblestone, and she found herself tripping forward. Imelda tried catching herself with her other foot, only for it to get tangled in her dress, and there was a ripping noise. 

Before Imelda fell completely to the ground however, a pair of arms caught her, “ _ Estas bien? _ ” asked a kind voice. 

“Uh, sí,” Imelda answered, grateful that he helped steady her, then she looked up to see who had caught her and her jaw nearly dropped when their eyes met. 

It was Héctor. 

Everything that Imelda thought she’d do when/if she saw him again, everything she had imagined herself saying to him, everything she had rehearsed in her head over and over again, all went out the window at the mere sight of his face, and sympathetic gaze. 

She saw him blush as their eyes met, then he awkwardly let go, “ _ Perdoname _ ,” he grabbed his left wrist flustered. “You sure you’re okay, Señorita?” he asked again. 

Imelda blinked, wait, since when did Héctor call her that? “Where have you been?!” she immediately scolded him, coming back to her senses. Everything she wanted to say coming back to her. 

“What?” Héctor’s face fell. 

“It’s been years!” Imelda accused, “And nothing! You just vanished! Not one single letter or note?!” she continued on, pointing her finger aggressively in his face. “You could have at least let us know you weren’t coming back!”

Héctor held up his hands defensively and tense, “Señorita,” he said patiently, “I-I think you have me confused with someone else.”

Imelda rolled her eyes. Really, out of all of the ways he could try to wiggle his way out of this one, he was trying the stranger-tactic?! “I think I would recognize my husband!” Imelda crossed her arms angrily, “Who  **else** would I confuse you with Héctor?!” 

“Héctor?” Héctor’s face couldn’t have been more blank if Imelda had tried giving him directions to Costa Rica in Japanese. 

“Sí! You! You’re Héctor! How far are you going to take this stupid joke?!” Imelda was getting frustrated and she could not  **believe** how far he was taking this. 

Héctor seemed to be trying to process everything she had just said. “Wait, I’m not… My name is Rafael.”

It was Imelda’s turn to be baffled. “Wait, what? What do you mean your name is Rafael? You’re Héctor!” Imelda insisted. 

Héctor shook his head, “No, I’m not.” 

By the look of his face, Imelda could tell he was being sincere, after all, he hadn’t once reacted to her face the way she would have expected him to. No adoring “Imelda!” no “mi flor!” no “Mi amor!” there had been no panicking upon seeing her, or rushed excuses or apologies… He truly was treating her as some stranger.

And yet, how could he be anybody else. It was him. Imelda was sure of it. She had seen his face up close enough times to know what he looked like. Had had him murmur in her ears often enough to know what his voice sounded like. This person was him, it  **had** to be him. Same face, same hair, same height, same gentle eyes…

“Señorita?” he called her concerned by her silence. “Are you certain you’re fine? I could escort you,” he offered. 

Imelda stared at this “Rafael” feeling utterly betrayed. She didn’t understand. It  **was** him. And yet, he clearly didn’t recognize her, he called her señorita, and hadn’t responded to his own name, not even a little flinch just plain confusion. 

“Rafa, what’s the hold up?” A new person appeared. It looked to be a man in his forties. There was something about him… He gave Imelda a hard stare.

“Rafael” turned to the person, “Oh uh, I ran into this señorita here, and I think we might need to escort her to-,” 

“Leave me alone!” Imelda snapped, “I’m fine! I just thought you were someone else!” she shoved past both of them angrily. Accidentally catching a whiff of “Rafael” and realizing with a skip of the heartbeat, he even  **smelled** like Héctor. 

As Imelda pushed her way through the crowds, she heard the other man, talk to “Rafael”.

“Rafa, let’s go.” 

“But she-,” 

“I appreciate your concern for her, but I don’t think she wants your company.” 

“I just… want to make sure she’s okay.” 

Their voices trailed away as she went further. 

Imelda then pressed herself to the side of a building, away from their view. She held up a hand to her mouth to keep herself from crying, although it did nothing to stop the tear buildup in her eyes. 

Why was she crying for that idiot?! He left her! He left her and Coco! Left them to fend for themselves! For six years now!

The tears began spilling. 

She didn’t understand. What had happened? Clearly something happened. He didn’t even know who  **he** was, let alone her! For a while, Imelda thought that that was all she had wanted. After she realized he wasn’t coming back, she wanted to just forget him, for him to disappear from her life. 

And yet, the second she saw him again, the second she saw his face, she realized how much she wanted him back. How much she had missed him. Imelda would have scolded him like no tomorrow, that’s certain. But he would’ve been back. He would have been by her side again. Coco would have had her father back. 

The blank stare he gave her when she called him by his name floated into her head. He had said his name was  _ Rafael _ , not Héctor. But he was Héctor. Imelda knew that it was Héctor. 

She knew that sometimes people could be scatterbrained. Imelda had heard of cases where people forgot horrific things that happened to them. She had also heard of people having more difficulty to recall things as they aged, or if they bumped their heads too hard. 

But to forget absolutely everything? Even… your own name? What had happened? 

Imelda slid to the ground slowly, feeling confused, angry, and heartbroken, she let herself cry softly. 

If she had ever found him, it wasn’t supposed to have gone like that… Imelda was supposed to have scolded him, how dare he leave her and Coco like that! And then, get him back home, dragging, kicking and screaming if she had to. 

Imelda imagined that for a while, it would have been tense between her and him. That he wouldn’t know how to act around her, or how to make up for what he did for her to forgive him. 

She imagined that, for a while, she wouldn’t want to forgive him. That she would want for him to feel guilty forever about what he had done, and yet at the same time, be so glad he was back, back to help her, back to be a father, back to be a husband, back to just  **be** there… 

She had imagined that maybe, eventually, she would forgive him, and they would go back to loving each other as intimately and as passionately as they had before. 

_ He didn’t know who I was… _ Imelda didn’t know what to do with that. 

_Why wouldn’t he know…_ Imelda kept mulling, _unless…_ _Maybe it_ ** _wasn’t_** _Héctor_? Imelda was almost positive it had been him, but now, without his presence, with the image of his face already hazing over, doubt was starting to creep into her mind. 

Héctor had just been dropped off at the monastery in Santa Cecilia one day, and that’s all anyone knew of his origins. It wasn’t entirely out of question that he might’ve had a twin, or an extremely identical brother.

Imelda shook her head. No, that sounded wrong. Why would his family only abandon him, and keep his sibling? Besides, even if that had been a sibling, the likeness was too… close. 

Thanks to her younger brothers, Imelda was well aware, no matter how similar two twins might be, they were still different people. Whoever it was Imelda had bumped into, it  **had** to be Héctor, and something had happened to him. 

Imelda felt her blood run cold when she remembered what Coco said the night before. That their mysterious new adult friend, Tio Rafa had looked like Papá. Imelda knew that Coco wanted to say something more in respects to that but ended up not saying anything. 

_ What was she going to say? _ Imelda found herself wondering. Now that she thought about it, her daughter had even seemed distressed. Had Héctor not recognized her either? 

_ What is going on? _ Imelda stood and recomposed herself, drying her eyes and straightening out her dress. She gave herself a shake  _ I should get to Ceci _ Imelda thought as she once again pulled out her map.

Though, as she recalibrated herself, the suspicions lingered. Especially when Imelda realized that both her strange encounter with the “not-Héctor” and Coco’s shared the name Rafael. 

___

 

“Earth to Rafa,” Isabela waved a hand so close to Rafael’s face it almost hit his nose, “Hello? Anybody there?” 

Rafael blinked, then whacked her hand away from his face, “Que?” he asked, “Did I miss anything?”

“We’re supposed to be looking for more spirits, not sticking our heads in clouds,” Isabela reminded him. “We can stick our heads in clouds later in the heavenly realm.”

Atzi rolled her eyes at that last comment. 

“Something on your mind Rafa?” Xōchipilli changed the topic.

Rafael pressed his lips together, “That woman thought I was her husband, and I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Xōchipilli Placed a hand on his shoulder, “She thought you were someone else, pay her no attention.”

“But she-,”

“It was a misunderstanding Rafa,” Xōchipilli insisted, “leave it be. She’s probably forgotten about having seen any of us by now.” 

Rafael didn’t say anything, but the notion that that woman had forgotten him left him uncomfortable. He shrugged it off. Since discovering Xōchipilli could more or less feel what he felt, it was probably really best to move on. 

As they walked, Rafael peered down an alley to check for spirits.  _ She was really pretty though… _ he found himself thinking. Then he gave himself a shake,  _ she’s gone, forget about… _ Rafael frown as he noticed a person cradling themselves against the wall in the alley. Rafael tilted his head. 

“Rafa where are you going?” Atzi asked. 

“I’ll be right back,” Rafael flashed an innocent smile. 

“If we stop to help every person we find, we’ll never get this job done!” Atzi huffed. 

Rafael waved her off, “It’ll only take a minute.” He approached the person. It looked like a boy in his teens, fourteen, maybe fifteen. “Ey chico, you okay?” Rafael asked him as he approached. 

The boy stirred, and looked up from his knees. He stared at Rafael. 

“Estas bien?” Rafael crouched down. 

The boy blinked, “You can see me?” 

“Uh-,”

The boy immediately grabbed Rafael by both his shoulders, “Please you’ve gotta help me! Nobody else sees me, or talks to me! I’ve been all alone for who knows how long-I-I don’t know where I am, I-...” 

Rafael held his hands up, “Ey ey ey, it’s okay,” he soothed. 

Xōchipilli and the others approached. 

Isabela smirked at Atzi, “Oh look Atzi, Rafa found a spirit. What was that you said again?”

Atzi pursed her lips, crossed her arms and stared pointedly at the wall. 

“Well done Rafa,” Xōchipilli praised. 

The boy’s gaze kept bouncing around at everyone, “What? What’s going on?”

“Spirit?” Rafael frowned. 

Isabela crouched down and whispered into his ear, “Yeah, he’s not a regalia yet because he hasn’t been named, so he’s a spirit. Unlike you, he retained his human form.” 

Rafael stared at her blankly, “Que?” 

Isabela elbowed him playfully, “You were a ball of light.” 

“I…  **what** ?” Rafael tried thinking back to the times from before Xōchipilli found him, but his mind was at a blank. He couldn’t really think any further back than knowing he existed and that he was dead, and then suddenly being in Xōchipilli’s hand. 

“Nevermind that,” Xōchipilli interrupted, and approached the boy. He studied him. Then, Xōchipilli pointed two fingers at him, with their tips glowing. Small flutters of light swirled around the boy. 

“ _ Spirit, you are lost and adrift,”  _ Xōchipilli spoke, and as he spoke he began writing in the air with his two glowing fingers. The path left by their glow did not fade and formed visible letters.

_ “You have nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. Thus I grant you a place to belong,”  _ he continued. Rafael could only watch amazed. Was it like this when he had found him?

The lights swirling around the boy were also swirling around Xōchipilli as if connecting them together. 

_ “My name is Xōchipilli. _

_ Bearing two names, you shall remain here.  _

_ With these names I make you my servant.  _

_ With these names, I use my life to make you a regalia fit to be wielded by a god!”  _

By now, the word Xōchipilli had been writing with the light now had been completed and hovered in the air between Xōchipilli and the boy. Up until now, Rafael had really only taken things at face value. He had believed Atzi and Bella when they told him Pilli was a god because it felt right. 

And sure, he now could do weird things, like transform into a guitar and draw a borderline, so he really had no reason to doubt the validity that Xōchipilli really was a god.

But right here, right now? As Xōchipilli bound himself to a spirit and bound the spirit to him, this was the moment that it actually sunk in for him. This was the moment when the rawness of Xōchipilli’s powers and the realization that he could do some pretty amazing things hit him fully.  

_ “You are Daniel! As regalia, Aeolian!  _ **_Come!_ ** _ Aeolian!”   _

Xōchipilli held out his hand as all the light converged on the newly named Daniel, the name itself settling onto the boy’s collar bone. Then in another flash of light the boy had dispersed into a deck of cards with the cards floating and flying everywhere before all headed towards Xōchipilli and landed neatly in his palm as a fully shuffled deck. 

“Woah!!” Rafael gaped. 

Isabela jumped and clapped her hands, “Yes!! Who cares about boring old regular cards, now we got magical ones! What can he do Pilli?” 

Xōchipilli couldn’t help but smirk, “Well let’s see, shall we?” With a sleight of hand, he could make the cards hover and dance in the air, swirl around them, and with perfect recall back into the hand. 

“Congratulations,” Atzi huffed, “You can do magic tricks extra good now,” she glared at the nearest trashcan, “I personally was hoping for something more useful.”

“Hmm,” Xōchipilli gave the deck a small thoughtful toss in the air, “Why don’t we see what else you can do?” he settled the deck in his hand again, and playfully faced Atzi. Before anyone could guess what he was planning, he managed to throw out three cards in her direction. All three cards missed her by mere inches and embedded themselves into the brick wall behind her with a  _ chink, Chink, CHINK _ . 

Atzi took a step back alarmed. 

Xōchipilli straightened, and with a simple hand wave, the cards pulled themselves out of the wall and went right back into his hands. “I think he’ll be  **quite** useful,” Xōchipilli praised him, while fanning out the cards momentarily and attempting a few more tricks with the supernatural hovering that they seemed to have. 

Atzi gaped. It seemed that she was mentally going back on her words as she struggled to express herself. Finally she managed to choke out, “He can turn into projectiles?” 

“And he’ll be good for blocking too,” Xōchipilli added. As soon as he spoke, he flung the cards out and they hovered side by side to each other forming a rectangular shield in front of him. “Granted, nothing too fancy or durable, these are cards, but-,” 

“He can still protect from some things,” Atzi finished for him. 

Xōchipilli nodded and recalled the cards into a deck once more before tucking it into his pocket. “Why don’t we get back to the temple. I’ll revert him there.”

“Tour?!” Isabela perked up, “Can I give him the tour? Oh please oh please OH PLEAAASEEEE?!” 

Xōchipilli patted her head, “First let’s see how he’s doing and if he’s up for it. I do recall Rafa wanting to sleep before passing out for sixteen hours,” his eyes glinted teasingly towards Rafael. 

Rafael crossed his arms, “Well  **excuse** me!”

Xōchipilli chuckled and gave Rafael’s shoulder some pats, “Let’s go home,” he led the way. As thrilled as he was at finding a new regalia, he just hoped that Atzi would finally give it a rest. 

Daniel was ever silent as cards. Although, Xōchipilli had a hunch that once everything settled down and Daniel got accustomed to everything, he’d be quite the chatty one. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, you got through this far! Gratz! As important as first arcs are I must admit they're my least favorite because I find them kinda boring (it's all the introductory stuff), but I hope you can stick it out long enough until arc two where intros are out of the way and I can actually get going with more serious stuff   
> (I only now realized that the beginning and end notes will appear on EVERY chapter *sigh* I only wanted them on the first one, but it's fine)
> 
> Last thing I want to address, yes, Alebrijés will be in this... I'm just figuring out how to mesh these two universes well enough to be believeable, so I'm still working on it!  
> Also, posting Chapter 2 in the same day!
> 
> Last note: before Noragami fans pounce on me for different usage of gods, I'd just like to point out the whole, different gods have different natures and abilities independent from their regalia, like Yato can't turn into a giant spider but uh, we all know this other god very much can. So I'll be milking the looseness of noragami's interpretation of gods
> 
> And uh, I know the secondary name regalia's get is the alternate pronounciation of the kanji, buuuuuuuuuut that doesn't really work with the roman alphabet SOOOOOOOOOOOO I'll just be uh, improvising


End file.
